Two roubles at the spilled blood

So, we're with the tourist hordes in the church on spilled blood, like everyone else bowled over by the mosaics and general over-the-top magnificence of it all - not to mention its gruesome history.

[ Gruesome history here: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_the_Savior_on_Blood ]

Eventually I drift over to one of the shoppy-bits, as happens from time to time.  I see loot.  Patiently (not very) queuing I become aware of some NY tourists... "over here, Judy, we're next."  They are pushy and also taking their time.  It's one of those queues where there is a line, but it's not clear where exactly, and it runs along the front of the counter.  There is only one shop assistant and everyone's purchase is slow.  Oh well.  I try to practise virtues - any virtue.  Finally Judy and her buddy finish choosing.  They have the correct book of postcards and the correct ugly fridge magnet worth, as far as I can tell, about 47 rubles.  They pay by card - seriously?  Anyway, they need a bag. No, not the flimsy red bag, the labeled church on spilled blood bag.  But there is a problem.  They can't discern the problem because the assistant can't remember how to say 'not included' and they are too stupid to work out her meaning.  

It's too much.  I can't wait any longer.  I unclench my teeth and speak: The bags are not included, I say.  Look - pointing - there they are there (three labeled bags displayed in different sizes) - 2 roubles, 5 roubles, 10 roubles.  Oh.  They are stumped.  They have already paid.  They want the bag.  Everything stops, as though the surging tourist horde is gone.  We are flies in amber, stuck, trying to solve the intractable problem of the two ruble bag.

Anyway, there's no poetry here - just a pissed off kiwi with no virtues and two annoying old bags from the States.  Geoff, give me your change, I instruct.  Helpfully, he empties some rubles from his pocket.  Here, I say.  Two roubles.  What I don't actually say, but G and I both hear is: Two roubles - now fuck off.

Weirdly, they are bowled over by kindness.  Apparently pissed off kiwi ice queen reads as NY mother teresa.  Which annoys me also.  Where are you from?  They want to know.  Oh, we LOVE Nuu-Zeeland.  FFS. Like we care.  Anyway, they make a gratifying little speech about paying it forward and kindness and karma and I wonder exactly how much karma you get from 2 roubles and a snakey tone, and finallly they are gone and I buy my stuff, comparatively quickly, with cash.  

Shortly afterwards all of the tourist horde blocking the view of Alexander's last spot melts away and I get the front and centre view.  2 roubles worth of karma.  

Boarding the boat to Tallinn is a lesson in queuing.  Like the inter-islander, seats are not allocated and there are never as many good spots as there are passengers.  Two old codgers do some blatant cutting on the stairs.  This brings out my inner Pom.  You could just be polite, I hear myself say to one of them.  He grunts (in Estonian?) as he surges on.  Shortly after G and I do some awesome pair blocking (roller derby term) to secure the best seat ahead of the old codgers.  One tried a faux-polite 'excuse me' to lure G away from the seat, but G is not fooled and we cravenly bags the spot.  This story does not bring credit on our house, but as we looked around in triumph I was reminded of the karma - surely the two roubles must be used up by now.

But wait, there's more.  On our last night in Helsinki, Jill and I ended up sitting on the tram across from a drunken crew of blokes who wanted to chat.  They told us all about their day - they'd been to Tallinn for lunch - and what a lunch.  Best restaurant, not on the square, don't go there, go to this restaurant with amazing food at incredible prices.  One of the guys wrote down the name and gave it to me.  B Bemused, Jill and I chatted to them and waved goodbye as we left the tram.  

So?  First night in Tallin.  G and decided to find the restaurant.  With his excellent skills of navigation this proved a cinch - in we go, just ahead of a group of three.  Is there a table?  No, we haven't booked.  You've hit the jackpot, said the waitress.  A table has just become free - the last table.  We go in; the group of three go out.  Turns out it's one of the best restaurants in Tallinn.  We had a fabulous meal, with awesome service (and it's cheap, too).

I'm pretty sure that's our 2 rubles, well and truly paid forward, right there.