Why Dmitri gave up drinking....

This story is quite irrelevant to my blog but I had to put it here for two reasons. It made me laugh on a dismal Saturday morning when I forced to come in to lab and......well, thats the only reason. But you will agree that it is a jolly good reason!
So I am sitting in lab on bright and sunny Saturday morning trying to get my experiment to work. Outside, I see people all around, skateboarding, running or just soaking up the sun. I am feeling trapped and depressed, hoping fervently that my experiment will start working so that I can go out for a nice long walk. But my machine refuses to cooperate and deep within, I have this sinking feeling which is usually a predicament of being stuck in lab till late in the night.

It is then that Dmitri walks up to me. "Excuse me Miss, do you what there is to do in the city beautiful city of Phoenix on a Saturday night?" he drawls in this thick Russian accent.
I like Dmitri. He is a visiting postdoc in the Biodesign and he came all the way from Russia. The things we do for science! But that is not the only reason why I like him. He has one gem of a wife who bakes the best double chocolate chip cookies in the whole world and is generous enough to share it with the whole first floor of the Biodesign. As you can imagine, she caused quite the stir in our lunchroom.
But this particular day, I was feeling very sorry for myself and that overcame my love for double chocolate chip cookies.
"Idont know" I pouted. "Cant you clearly see that I am one of those people who dont have a life! How am I supposed to know what normal people do on a Saturday night?"
But he is quite relentless and does not give up that easily, that Dmitri. "Oh come on Miss." (I get the feeling that he cannot pronounce my name.)"You dont need to have a life, you are the life of a party. Now tell me, what can Shawntel and I possibly do for fun tonight." he coaxed.
I knew he was far from truth but his flattery won me over.
"This is quite a party place, you know" I chirped. "If you want to hang out with the peppy college crowd, then you can go to Mill avenue. But Scottsdale is where the crème de la crème are at. The clubs are absolutely awesome. The only thing I dont like about it is that they dont serve Hypnotic. Now, if you are in the mood for karaoke........."
"Tch tch tch, no no Miss" he interrupted." I dont drink!"
"Now now, Dmitri, I know you like pulling my leg but I am not falling for this. I may be naive but not this naive" I replied laughing.
"But Miss, I really dont drink" his bright blue eyes were very serious behind his glasses.
"But....but.....you are Russian!.....you must....at least.....drink Vodka!" I was almost speechless.
"Ah, there is a very good story behind it" he sighed. " When I was little boy, about eight....."
I tried to imagine a smaller, eight year old version of the six foot tall Dmitri and laughed out loud. But I regained composure immediately, I didnt want him to think I am rude. It could affect my ration of the double chocolate chip cookies, you see.
"...my parents were alcoholics" he continued. "They used to drink almost everyday. But being an alcoholic is not bad in Russia so everyone liked them a lot too. They would have lots of parties at home. When I was about to turn eight, they decided that they should break me into drinking too. But I was a kid, so they wanted to be subtle about it. They decided it should be done gently so that I could be eased into it.
So it was my eighth birthday and all my cousins were over. Shawntel had been over since morning and we were all having a whale of a time. It was one of those rare days in Moscow when the weather was nice and we were all playing outside. I was running around all over the neighborhood and was so breathless that my tongue was hanging out like my dog's. I ran back inside and poured myself a glass of water from the jug in my bedroom and downed the clear, sparkling liquid in one gulp.
That is when it happened. My whole esophagus started burning like I swallowed fire. My stomach started burning too and I felt like I swallowed poison. I clutched at my throat and ran out trying to call for help but no sound would come out. I felt the bile rising in my throat and before I could control myself, I threw up on my father's very expensive carpet. My parents and their friends rushed over to me to see what happened.
My father stared at me with his bulging red eyes and then roared with laughter 'Why my son is a light weight'. He was joined by everybody else, except my dear Ma, and soon the room was filled with their thunderous laughter. You see, he had filled my innocent little water jug with Vodka without even telling me to 'ease' me into drinking!!!!
So that is when I gave up drinking." he concluded.
"Poor Dmitri" I was feeling sorry for him."Do you hate your father for what he did?"
"No no, you see, my father is in some way related to Stalin. THE Stalin." he confirmed looking at my amazed expression." But alas, I take after my poor Ma. I am a little wimp" he said, his eyes twinkling.
Well, that is why Dmitri doesnt drink. A nice anecdote for my Saturday afternoon ennui.