Chapter 2: The Russian

"Barney, c'mon. We're more than friends! We're brothers!"

Ted

Miracles (3x20)


I missed too much after I left. On Tracy's front, things didn't work out quite the way she wanted. The week after she broke up with Louis, I invited her to stay at my place while I was gone, since she didn't have a home anymore. Then she ended up becoming my new roommate when she couldn't find a new place to live while I was gone. Ted was now living in his house in Westchester, and Barney and Robin were living uptown, so it was hard for us to all hang out when we got the chance.

I missed the last three Game of Thrones episodes while I was gone, so Tracy and I caught up on both the show, and where I had been one day at our apartment. I showed her the map, my souvenirs, and all the pictures I took. I had one self timer picture for every state and province I went through. Then just as I was flipping through the other photos, Tracy noticed the addition to my arm.

"Hey! New tattoo to add to the bunch!" She said.

I looked down on it. It usually took me about a couple weeks for me to get used to it every time I got a new tattoo, so it was strange looking at my right arm, and seeing writing there instead of bare skin.

"Yeah. That one's for my trip."

Tracy took a close look at the quote, reading it under her breath. Then she smiled. "Ulysses. Respect, Ollie." She high-fived with me.

I shrugged casually. "A camper I met on my trip recited that line. Said I should always look to those words whenever I felt lost."

"Damn right. You know those words brought me to New York?"

"No shit? That's interesting."

"My dad used to teach Literature at UCD. Every year at the beginning he would read the poem to his Lit 101 class, and at the end he would ask them to write a synthesis essay to explain how they would use these words to figure out what they would want in life. He asked me, when I was graduating school. I often thought of how 'tis not to late to seek a newer world'. Then I figured my 'newer world' was the Big Apple. Six months later we met."

I smirked. "Isn't that something. You'd only see those kinds of moments of fate in the movies."

"You know, I owe you an apology, Ollie." Tracy said, sadly.

"What is it, J?" I said.

"You know how you have always said that everything has gotta happen for a reason? Fate, destiny, and all that?"

"Sure." I said.

"I need to admit that I had lied about my belief in it. I never really believed in fate, no matter how much proof I was given. I lied to you about my belief in it, and I'm sorry."

I suddenly understood what Tracy was getting at, and instantly forgave her. "Ted was your proof. You had one of the worst weekends of your life, and then you met the 'One' for you."

"Yeah. It was strange. Remember late May we went to see the Avengers with Kelly?"

"How could I forget? She and I got into a debate over whether Cap or Iron Man was better. I still think old Stars and Stripes is awesome."

"The night after that I went to the bar to find you, but you weren't there. I met this German guy. I think he said his name was Klaus."

"Yeah? And?"

"The guy recently walked out on his fiancé at the altar. It was kinda nice, considering it was mutual. He explained to me that it was not true love. True love comes from something he called the..." She closed her eyes trying to remember. "Lebenslangerschicksalsschatz. It means the 'Lifelong treasure of destiny'. I didn't fully understand what he meant, until I saw Ted for the first time at the train station. Fate just never seemed to come to me until now."

I shook my head. "I reject that out of hand. Fate's been with you and me ever since we stepped into the world. I grew up with Lucy, she passed away. I met you and Cindy, and I was given a family I thought I would never have again. Let's not forget the Pineapple Incident."

"Beg pardon?"

"The Pineapple Incident. It's what happened to Ted the night he met us. The night he really met us. Which brings me to a question that bugged me for so long ever since I left: should we tell him? It would lift the veil on one of his biggest questions in life. To this day he never found where the pineapple came from, never realizing that the source of it is right under his nose."

Tracy nodded. "I know what you mean. But we would only get to tell him once. If anything, we should have some fun with it."

I grinned. "Alright. I see what you're getting at. A prank, if you will. We'll figure out something to make the guy flip out."


Weeks went by after Carl's announcement about his leaving the bar to someone. I wasn't so sure what it was that was holding me back from stepping up to audition for the spot, but it was something.

But my fears weren't necessary. Soon enough, Carl actually called me into his office as September reached it's midpoint.

"So, Ollie. When were you gonna submit your candidacy to me? The last minute?"

I didn't respond.

"I don't understand you, Ollie. You've been my most loyal and skilled bartender for three years, and when I announce that the bar is going to be left to someone, you don't step up like I expected you to. Unbelievable..."

I just sat there as Carl took a drink of his Coors.

"Luckily, I'm not alone in this concern. You should know how serious this is when I have to get the Brit involved."

"The Brit?" I said, forgetting who Carl was talking about.

"'ello Ollie." Said a voice in a thick accent from across the pond.


David was the great teacher that passed his skills in bartending onto me, and started my career. It had been over 3 years since we last saw each other, but there was no denying it was him with his tough as nails attitude, and his thick accent from London. For him to come waltzing into Carl's office was indeed a big deal, because David never left his bar unless if it was an emergency. And he didn't count a fire that nearly burned down a building across the street as an emergency.

"You got David involved?" I said to Carl.

"Wasn't me who called him. He actually just finished with a student of his, and wanted me to take him in. Kyle quit his position as bartender, so we have an opening."

"And then ol' Carl 'ere tells me that 'e's leaving the bar behind for one of you lucky chaps. So naturally I think it's gonna be one of my top students."

For David to say that was also huge. David was like a British bartending sensei. He rarely made many compliments on my work, and when he did, he says that it "wasn't bad". Never "good", never "great. Just "not bad".

Carl nodded. "Exactly my thoughts, David. But it's been 3 weeks since I announced the intentions of the bar's future, and still Ollie hasn't submitted his candidacy. Which is why I think it's best I raise the stakes for him."

Oh shit. What now?

Carl walked around his desk, got up real close to my face, and looked me straight in the eye. "Here's how this will play out, Ollie. First, you're gonna tell me everything about you that I know is true as to why you should be the next owner of this bar by sending me a good essay at least three pages long. Then, I'm gonna introduce you to the new guy, and you're gonna take him under your wing. All of this will prove to me what I already know, and what I know you know. Training this guy, and running for ownership will prove to me that you are awesome enough to take this bar when I move on. But if you don't pass the test, and someone else who I don't want to inherite the bar to, like Doug, then you're fired."

No...no...he couldn't be serious. Carl would never fire me. Unless if he was really serious. And technically firing me before he would leave the bar wouldn't really affect him at all. I would be expendable; the one thing I never wanted to be considered.

"Who's the new guy?" I asked without flinching.

Carl smiled, then nodded to David. David then yelled out the door to someone in a different language. It was Russian.


The problem with a lot of Russian guys is that they're scary. They're the scariest white people, and they've earned it. Ted told me of these Russian gang members that he got into a poker game with while he was drunk. He managed to piss them all off by winning all of their money, and nearly got stabbed by one guy, but they only got his tie.

The new guy walked in. He was close to bald with his buzz cut, looked to be in his mid-twenties, and I was blown away at the amount of tattoos he had. They were all over his arms, and even on his hands and fingers. Some of them that I could make out were an ankh, an alpha-omega, a dragon with flames surrounding it's head, and more. It was as if his arms themselves were blue.

"Da?" He said.

David responded with another sentence in Russian. I took it a long time ago, but I could only make out a few words due to me being out of practice. I got "training", and "American", and that was it.

The Russian guy nodded, glancing over at me. He had shining grey eyes that scared me just as much as the way how Ted described the Russians like Better Marshall and New Lily.

Then the Russian spoke up, although he talked quite slowly, straining to get the words out. He closed his eyes in furious concentration. "My name...eees...Yuri."

Yuri. Good. Simple to remember. Maybe I should ease the tension.

Using what little knowledge I had from high school, I did my best to pronounce the words. "It's great...to meet you...Yuri. Name mine Oliver. Me prefer call 'Ollie'."

"Ollie?" He repeated as best he could.

"Da." I said.

"Apologize, American. My English, how you say? It bullshit."

Yuri smiled a bit while I couldn't help but laugh. David and Carl just sat back watching with amazement.

I wanted to say to Yuri that he seemed like an interesting person to be taking as my partner, but it's hard when he can't speak English. But then again, I couldn't blame him since I just knew I made a grammar mistake with that phrase in Russian.

"Mine understand English ees very good. Me's just can't speak it."

Oh! So he could understand me, but just not speak English. Seemed easy enough.

"It's good to meet you, Yuri. I have a feeling that you and I will work together quite well."

Yuri smiled, and nodded. "Da. I's agreement."

Carl looked over at David. "Where the hell did you find this asshole?"

"Member of a small Russian gang here in New York. He was almost like a sheep in wolf's clothing if you will. Just didn't really belong. I have no doubt he will find his place among you."

Then David turned to me. "Ollie. You have an important job here. Yuri has only been under my guidance for several months. Lucky for him, I knew Russian already. Clearly you have some knowledge, so it's up to you to teach him proper English, and you to learn Russian. This'll all work well towards you proving that you belong as owner of Maclaren's. Can I count on you for that?"

I wasn't sure. The stakes were as high as they could get for me. Bartending was the only life I knew, and in 3 short years, Maclaren's had become my own true home. I couldn't let Doug or someone with no right to the ownership take it, and lose my job in the process. Did I really have a choice?

I nodded. "Da. You can count on me."

David smiled, then nodded to Carl. "Keep an eye on him, Carl. He's a good man."

"No doubt in my mind." Carl said as David walked out leaving him with me and the Russian.

Carl sat at his desk, and pulled out a bottle of vodka. Yuri scoffed.

"Seriously, Carl?" I said. "We're trying to welcome Yuri, not offend him."

"What? You guys don't like vodka?"

Yuri looked at me. What he said next I could sort of understand. This was what I thought he said: "Tell the racist fucker that I do like my vodka, but he should ask first. It just offensive if he believes I like vodka just because I'm Russian."

"He says he does like vodka. But maybe we ought not to jump to conclusions based on heritage?" I translated.

"Fine. So can I count on you to get this guy to speak English and running the bar? I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't completely trust you to do this. Consider this extra credit for passing my test to find the new owner."

Yuri and I took the glasses of vodka as I said "yes". Then we toasted to whatever, and drank.


Yuri seemed to know his way around the bar pretty well. We set him up to run the bar for fifteen minutes, and he took patrons orders with lighting speed and precision only David could have taught him.

He also wasn't lying when he said he could understand English very well. I heard where there are a few people who don't speak English, but can understand it. What didn't make sense to me though, was Yuri's lack in skill for speaking aloud, whether it be Russian or English. He barely said two words as he took people's orders. Oh well. I'd get him speaking English soon enough.

Tracy walked up to the bar with both of us working.

"Who's that?" She said with curiosity as Yuri spun a lime wedge around a pint glass' rim.

"That's Yuri. New guy I'm training. Say hi, Yuri."

Yuri glanced at Tracy, and just nodded. Then he went back to work.

"He doesn't speak much English." I said when Tracy looked confused.

Yuri then looked at us, and held a finger up. "Hold on." He was meaning to say to us.

He grabbed three lemons, and started juggling with them. A couple customers looked impressed. I heard one whistle as well.

"What he lacks in speaking skills, he makes up for in icebreakers." I said.

"Why are you training him?" Asked Tracy.

"I'll explain later."

Yuri looked at me, still juggling the lemons. "Glass." He said nodding towards the pint glasses.

I grabbed one, and placed it on the bar where he then tossed the lemons into the air in mid juggle, and grabbed the pint glass. One, two, three, they all fell right into the glass.

The patrons applauded as Yuri nodded, smiling. I could see he would fit like a peg into this place.

"Ollie." He said to me.

I glanced over at him, and he gestured. He grabbed my hand in the "bro" aspect. You know? Two bros grab the other's hand as if they're about to arm wrestle.

"Drug." He said to me. Not like "drugs", but his "u" in "drug" was a big "oo". So "droog" he essentially said to me.

"Droog?" I repeated.

"Drug." He replied. "I teach you Russian, you teach me English. Da?"

"Da." I nodded.

"Drug." He said again.


The next morning Tracy called me as I was playing Assassin's Creed. She was out with Kelly for the day.

"What's that guy, Yuri doing here?"

"Oh, yeah." I said. "So Carl, the guy who owns the place. His grandfather passed away while I was gone. He's gonna inherit the chain of bars he owned down in DC, and he needs someone to carry on Maclaren's without him. He really wants me to do it, but I wasn't sure I could do it."

"Why the hell not? It's your dream, Ollie. It's why you left for New York, and it's what Lucy would want."

"I know. It's what all my family would want for me, now. But I wasn't sure. So Carl is offering me a sort of 'extra credit' to prove myself. I need to take Yuri under my wing to basically be what I am to Carl."

"I get it. You're the Vice President moving on to be the big cheese, and need a VP of your own."

"Exactly. Carl wanted to look at someone more experienced at Maclaren's like Nick or Kenny. But our teacher David dropped this guy off on us. Yuri, Carl, and I were all taught by David. The guy's like the Mr. Miyagi of bartending. So since Yuri was trained by the best, he gets to step up to the plate early, just as I can for this ownership."

"Do you think you can do it? Run the bar?"

"I don't know, J. It's a lot of responsibility, and I don't know if I can handle it. People seem to think I can, but I really don't know. I just don't know."