We took the stairs as he didn’t trust Soviet elevators, he explained.
“Are Western elevators better?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Sergei. “They have Westinghouse elevators in the Kremlin, at least that’s what I heard.”
“With toilets?” I tried to joke but he shot me down with a look.
“Listen, Pasha, you keep your mouth shut. I talk on the job, got it?”
I got it.
We buzzed the ringer two or three times. A sleepy looking man in a kitchen apron opened the door. He had kept us waiting because he had to go turn the stove off first. We walked in.
“Let me show you the instrument,” he said, and led us down the hallway.
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