[Amber H.]

Mr. Rage,
Don’t you ever come near me with any sharp objects! That’s pretty amazing though. LOL!

Back in the spring of 1990 (okay so I’m old, so sue me) I had just gotten back to the hotel with my performing group from a concert. It had been an exciting night as we had been the first American musicians to set foot on the Leningrad (now St. Petersburg) conservatory stage. The Soviet press had their cameras right up in our faces as we sang. There were some serious security issues that night as word got out and classical music fans and the black marketers started descending upon us like vultures.
A Soviet plainclothes type police unit was there when we arrived at the hotel (I have no idea if they were KGB or not, so don’t ask). We were instructed to go straight to our rooms and not open the door for ANYONE!
I was especially nervous because by a chance, last minute decision by the director, I had become the first American Soprano in history to perform solo at the Leningrad Conservatory that night. I should have been more appreciative, but I felt like I had been made a bigger target.
So there I was nervously pacing my hotel room when there was a knock at the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Who is it?” I asked tentatively.
“Open door!” ordered a gruff male voice with a thick Russian accent.
“Um, Who is it?” I asked again as I went for the phone to call the operator for help.
“Open door!” came the stern voice again.
“Who is it?” I wasn’t about to open the door for some crazed fan or black market thug.
“Is police, open door!” came the rough reply.
Oh no! I had ticked off a Russian cop! I dropped the phone and raced to door. My hands were shaking so hard, I thought I’d never get it unlocked.
Finally I yanked the door open. But, instead of a burly Russian cop, I find our manager standing out in the hallway with a big stupid grin on his face!
“You idiot!” I yelled.
He pushed his way into my room before anybody heard my outburst and closed the door. I yelled at him some more. He’s lucky I didn’t strangle him!
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised though. This is the same guy who noticed that a friend of mine had a problem with her clothing one-day. He decided to wait until she had crossed the entire front quad of the High School so that everyone could get an eyeful. Only then, did he stroll over to tell her that her skirt was caught in the back of her pantyhose.
He’s lucky to be alive.