VIP

I wondered why a crew of about twenty were feverishly clearing the snow from our street over the last three days. On my way back from a long walk around the city this afternoon, loaded down with two grocery bags, I was stopped by some serious looking men in stocking caps. Along with the thirty or so other men strewn up and down my street, these guys were on the look out for a VIP. As I was approached, I stated mater-of-factly, "I live here." They asked to see in my bags. I asked why, but opened them anyway. He smirked and let me be on my way. Ah the joys of living across the street from the secret service of Ukraine!