Nikki

I’d sent him a email from the Alderman’s web site saying that I was a friend of Officer Augustine and he suggested that we meet.  The next day I received a reply asking how he could be of service.  There wasn’t really anything I needed specifically, I wrote, just that Gus said he and I aught to know one another.  Nikolai suggested we meet for coffee the following day.  

He’s is a big guy and walks like he owns the streets.  Young. Tall.  Broad shoulders.  Shaved head.  Starched shirts and jeans with the elaborate embroidery on the back pockets.  Ukrainian guy.  He arrived at the coffee shop, note pad in hand – official business.  His confidence and punctuality kind of turned me on.  The accent didn’t hurt either.  

We ordered coffee then took a table.  Nikolai uncapped his pen to start writing.  There was the obligatory small talk about where each other lived … this and that.  I told him that I’d heard the neighborhood had changed quite a bit in the past decade or so and that I liked what the Alderman was doing to keep things moving in the right direction.  Nikolai said he liked working for him and that the entire staff was working on behalf of the neighbors, “unlike some Aldermen”, he said.  

He went on to tell me that he’d spent the day with the city inspectors at an apartment building on the next block.  “Code violations,” he said.  

There’d been a fight out front of the building involving a couple of thugs, one of which lived there and was selling weed.  Since it was within a block of a public school the charges were elevated.  The landlord of the building had been notified but hadn’t evicted the tenant, so Nikolai sent in the city inspectors to look for code violations as punishment for not following his orders.

“It’s easy enough to find one or two code violations,” he said.  “But I typically send in every city inspector and we start the tally.” 

He went on to tell me that after a couple weeks the $500 per day per violation adds up such that the landlord can’t afford the combined repairs and the fines, at which point the city takes control of the building and eventually builds a case to seize the building, then sells it to someone willing to upgrade the property.  

Nikolai asked again if there was anything he could do for me.  I told him that I thought my street could be narrowed to reduce thru traffic and that the major arterial two blocks west likely had enough capacity to carry the increased demand.  

“That’s not going to happen,” he said.

“Ok.  How about some new trees on the street?”

“We can do that,” he said as he made the note, then suggested that we go have a beer. “I’ll drive.”

A few blocks east and a couple south and there we were, parked out front of the local gay bar.  I didn’t suspect that he was gay, but rather that he sought to support local businesses.  But then I thought, of all the places to grab a beer, why’d he choose this place?

“You ever come here?” he asked.

I’d been to this place many times I and I’ve never left sober.  Cheap drinks.  Heavy pours.  Consequently it’s busy from the time it opens at nine o’clock in the morning.  The heavy drinkers don’t mind that it’s a gay bar.   Someone had told me that it opened at nine to cater to the swing shifts, but I’m not aware of any businesses nearby that have swing shifts.  

Nikolai ordered us a round of beers.  I told him that I’d always thought it would be interesting to work in local government then asked how he got the job.

“First of all, call me Nik,” he said.  He told me that he’d lived in a building with several dozen apartments and he’d organized the neighbors to keep tabs on the problem residents.  Over the course of a couple of years, he’d managed to get most of them evicted.  “You know, clean up the neighborhood,” he said.

The Alderman was pleased with his community organization and offered him the job.  I bought the next round and we continued talking, then exchanged phone numbers.  “Call me if you need anything,” he said.  

A week later a new tree was planted along the street in front of my building.  ‘And that’s how an Alderman builds loyalty’, I thought.  Timely response to a reasonable request.  

Later that week I texted Nik to thank him for the tree.  

“I’m just down the street.  Mind if I stop by?” he texted back.  I called down to the doorman to tell him that I was expecting company.  Shortly thereafter came a knock on the door.  Nik explained that he had to stop by the pop-up farmer’s market and shake some hands.  

I guess the farmer’s market called for more casual attire because Nik showed up blue plaid shorts and a short sleeved shirt unbuttoned much further down, with the remaining buttons nearly ready to pop.  I love this about guys like this.  They’re not afraid to show off the results of their robust eating habits.  

Nik took a look around the apartment then settled on the sofa as I poured a whiskey for the both of us.  He sat large.  Leaned back.  Both arms across the back of the sofa.  Legs spread wide.  And a bulge between his legs that looked like a potato from the farmer’s market had been stuffed in his shorts.   I was delighted with his level of comfort in my home on this impromptu visit and I certainly didn’t mind the view he presented.  

Nik asked if I knew Ivan, another Ukrainian guy in the neighborhood.  The name didn’t ring a bell.  Then he described the guy, specifically his laugh and then I put two and two together.  

“Van? The bartender in Rogers Park?”

I’ve only ever known him as Van which for a gregarious bar tender with 100% American attributes and mannerisms, seemed perfectly natural.   Nik told me that the two of them met in Chicago, though they’re both born in Kyiv.  He said that the last time he was in Kyiv they ran into each other, neither of them knowing that the other was there.  

“We got loaded, then smoked some pot and crashed at my uncle’s house.  We should meet up some weekend and have a few drinks while Ivan is working.  We won’t have to pay for a thing, and I could use a night out.”

I always enjoyed a couple of drinks when Van was tending bar.  The first time I met him was on a Saturday afternoon when I’d stumbled into the bar after I’d been out shopping in Evanston.  It was just after four in the afternoon and it was only me and another patron.   I ordered a Manhattan then asked if the place was always this quiet on a Saturday afternoon or if it was  the rain that slowed things down.  

“First time here?”

“I’ve seen the place from the train, but it’s the first time I’ve been in.”

“We open at four,” he said.  “It picks up later.”

The TV was on behind the bar and the news made mention of something that had happened over the last week – a story that was unfolding apparently.  Van made a comment, and I said that I’d not heard of the event, that I’d been in Berlin for the past week.  

“Is that new airport ever going to be open?” he said, then burst out laughing.

The new Berlin airport was the butt of jokes about bureaucracy in Berlin.  It seemed that this guy was not just another pretty face.  After all, how many dive-bar bartenders in Chicago know about the political fallout over the new Berlin airport.  For awhile I stopped in every Saturday afternoon just to hang out with Van for a couple of hours.

Anyway, Nik suggested that we head over to see Van later in the evening.  “It’ll be free drinks if you show up with me,” he said.   It sounded like a fine idea, but I think I would have agreed to just about anything he’d suggested because Nik was right up my alley.  “Meet me there around nine tonight,” he said.  

I arrived at the bar a bit earlier than Nik, sat at the bar and ordered a drink from Van.  The usual back and forth with him as I’d become accustomed.  Over my numerous Saturday visits I’d tried to suss out if he was single because I so enjoyed his company.  I didn’t want to just come out and ask because bar tenders are always getting hit on.  I wanted to be the suave and sophisticated bar patron – the one that he’d ask out.  

Not long after Nik showed up and before he sat down he and Van were already greeting one another in loud voices that boomed across the bar.  The smiles on their faces – even more expressive than there voices.  You’d think they’d not seen one another since having left Kyiv as kids.  

“You know this guy?  You know this guy?” Van asked as he looked at me.  I nodded.  An endless flow of drinks then begun.  

With Nik and I it was the initial small talk that I found interesting because he loved to gossip about the neighborhood.  He knew every single detail of every single thing that went on around here.  He told me about the guys who opened the vape shop not far from my place. 

The owners of the shop had installed bright LED light strips around the window frames of the place to draw attention to it from the street.  The Alderman wasn’t fond of this because this type of lighting was associated with crappy shops in less desirable areas so he stopped by and offered some funds for the owners if they were willing to remove the lights.  His office would pay for a new awning to be installed along the front of the building with the name of the shop printed on it.   The owners declined.  

Nik went on to tell me that as it happened later that week the window of this shop were shot out during the night.  The next day Nik was sent out to see the owners, to make sure no one was hurt and to suggest, perhaps that they take the offer for the awning.  “Of course,” Nik said, “I also offered my condolences for the damage they were dealing with.”   It seemed the moral of this story was do not fuck with the Alderman’s office.  That’s just what it seemed anyways.   There was no talk of who shot out the windows.   

Drinks, drinks, and more drinks.  More stories and Van chimed in on some of them as well.  Nik asked Van to let he and I out the back door so that we could smoke in the alley between the buildings and not have to be bothered by the people who were smoking out front.  Out back we both lit up and it was nice actually, to be away from the noise for a bit.  

After we stomped out our butts, Nik motioned me closer to him with his finger.  From leaning agains the brick wall I stepped forward and Nik brought his arm out around my neck and pulled me in closer.  He tilted his head slightly then planted his mouth against mine while holding the back of my neck then worked his tongue deep into me.  The taste of whiskey and cigarettes swirled between us.  

From that point on I maintained a pretty good relationship with the Alderman’s office.  Nik stopped by every now and then as well.  To this day I have no idea why Officer Augustine suggested I introduce myself to Nik, but I’m glad he did.   The entire situation from meeting Gus to my time with Nik until he moved away would have made for a great television crime series drama. 

Things have quieted down a bit since Nik left town.  Gus has been reassigned to a new part of town but we still text every now and then.  Last year he bought a boat which he lets me use if he’s not using it on the weekend.  “Take it out. Refill the gas tank.  Do not damage the boat.”  These are his only requests.