The cosmonaut and I became very close on the space station. So close, in fact, that he began to confide in me. He told me he wanted to defect, so I told him he should come “visit” me in America.
After coming to Cape Canaveral, I took him into my home. He wanted to visit an American strip club so I took him to one. The place reeked of bourbon and sweat, but the cosmonaut just laughed. The next thing I knew the cosmonaut had a platinum blonde girlfriend.
He got along better with my neighbors than I did. He practiced his fake American accent while cooking weenies on the grill. His girlfriend brought her two kids over and they played in the pool. It was right around the 4th of July.
Then, early one morning, my wife and I heard the squeal of tires. I ran outside and saw the rubber on the asphalt. I figured the cosmonaut was either free or that he’d been abducted by Vladimir Putin.
Photo by Jonas Verstuyft