A Dog Always Crawls Back to its Vomit

Well, I am back in Frowntown, having returned from France after an extended vacation. I felt a bit queasy about coming back to Moscow, and upon getting out of the airplane the queasiness was transmuted into hate and horror. Not immediately, mind you, but kind of step by step as I on my homeward path encountered the things and people that make this place so unpleasant so frequently: sullen, sag-shouldered afrophobe cops who can't make a living without stealing from africans; girls with legs up to their necks and nothing in their heads because as a rule men think of women as soup and sex machines and not as conversation partners; sundry drunks; and the vast number of people with innocent, kindly faces which make you feel like maybe you're just wrong about these people in general.
During my vacation in France, I had left the flat to Charlemagne, who was to hold the fort until my return, paying part of the rent and making sure no one else moved in in my place. Instead, I found out, he had bailed at the last minute, leaving the flat to an unnamed Canadian. The idea of a Canadian male living in my flat worried me, because several months ago, while looking for a flatmate, I had met a Canadian who seemed like an alright guy, until he revealed that he brings back multiple prostitutes of both sexes, or sometimes only men, to the apartment. I didn't relish the idea of waking up at 3am to a quartet of male orgasms six months ago, and so I didn't let him take the room. I still don't relish the idea, so the idea that maybe the same Canadian was in my flat waiting for me to come back was rather unsettling.
Instead, upon arrival I was greeted by my landlord Leonid, one of the few people of unalloyed honesty I have met in this city. During my absence, no one was living in the flat, which means he made almost no money the entire time I was gone. He gave me the key, and we entered together, turned on the fridge and unblocked the gas, and started unpacking some of my stuff. Unfortunately though, he informed me that rent is going up as of September. The only bad thing about the flat is the rent. Leonid and his wife Ludmilla both have just plain unrealistic expectations about what people can afford to pay to stay in the flat, what they are demanding is WELL above market prices. They aren't trying to rip me off, they just have an inflated expectation of what they can earn from this flat.
Today I called a German woman who lives in Moscow and who was considering living in my other room starting from September, ie, just when I need her to come, but she found the price ridiculous. I told her that there was no parasite real estate agent to pay, and no deposit to pay either, but she was unimpressed and harangued me some about prices and then hung up. In typical Moscow fashion (I would have done the same in her position) she called back to wheedle me down to a lower price and offer unwanted advice. As we continued speaking, she made a few mistakes in her German, and her Russian accent became more apparent, which made me think she was more Russian than German. I told her I was willing to pay such a high price because I had been thrown out and ripped off too many times in the past, and was willing to pay a higher price for stability. She countered that she had never had such experiences, and that she hoped I'd understand that she was willing to pay 40 percent less than what my landlord was demanding, and that starting tomorrow she was going to start searching intensively for a room to live in, ie, I should accept her offer immediately or face paying the whole rent myself.
One thread that ran through the conversation was that Moscow is a city of liars and cheats, and that when you find someone honest, you have to hold onto them, even if it is expensive. As her Russian accent became more apparent, I felt a certain pleasure in having thus shamed this woman for her nationality before it had even become apparent to me, and a measure of shame in my pleasure. The reasons behind my shame, anger, and pleasure will become more apparent as you continue to read this blog.