I signed up for my second ever Moth Slam in New York City this week. Unfortunately, this time, I was not selected to tell my story on stage. So I thought I would share it with you.

The theme for this Slam was 'Confrontation'.

Russia.

It is an incredible, interesting and inefficient place.

In 2013 I took a 10 day trip to Russia

And, while I was there, I learned a few things:

Pieces of the language: For instance, “Shuka Pjouste” roughly translates to "Bitch Please”
Don’t ask why – because either you will not like the answer, the answer will make no reasonable sense or the Russians themselves will no know.
Smiling without reason is for fools.
Get okay with chaos: Rules depend on the current mood of the authority figure you’re speaking to and lines with a function and purpose do not exist.
Don’t get in a fight with a Babushka. This is something I had actually been pre-warned about from a friend who lived there, looked me in the eye and told me, “Those ladies have lived through communism and the cold war. They’ve seen things. They’re terrifying.”

So I’m on this ten day trip and, after about five days of constant chaos and attempting to find lines that didn’t exist - being literally pushed out of the way and removed from a line so that someone could take my exact spot - I was on the edge. And this was at a McDonalds!? Girl just trying to get some fries. At tourist sites it was just throngs of humans throwing themselves at ticket sheds hoping someone would take their money.

But after five days I finally found a line. A fully functioning, straight, ‘next please’ kind of line. This felt like a small slice of heaven.

So I'm in this line. And just as I’m about to take one step forward with the line, this rotund, curly haired, old lady wearing a stripped shirt walks up next to me, looks me in the eye then up and down and STEPS DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME.

"SERIOUSLY!?!? AGAIN?!!”

I was furious.

So, in my fury. I decided the best course of action would be to tap her on the shoulder. Clearly I could reason with her. Show her how rude she was being and could she politely STEP TO THE BACK OF THE LINE. And justice would be restored to the world again for one day.

I don’t know how many people have ever confronted or angered an elderly Russian woman, let alone upset one, but, this is exactly what didn’t happen.

So, I tap her on the shoulder. And she turns around. And just stares at me - like, "What?".

I being making very clear, gestures to show her both that I am upset she has cut and that she needs to move to the back of the line. You also must understand that I don't speak Russian and I assume she doesn't speak English, so I am silently gesturing wildly in the middle of Moscow at an elderly woman standing in front of me in the only functioning line in the city.

As I finally slow my gesturing and revert to a simply displeased stare, she raises her hands, begins shaking them in the air and starts YELLING at me in Russian.

Shit. All of a sudden we have a 'Scene' on our hands.

The two women in in front of her turn around at this noise to see what is happening and after briefly consulting with her, join their voices with hers and I have three elderly Russian women yelling things at me I do not understand.

Internal Monologue: "Oh Shit. This was a bad idea."

And right when I'm secure in the fact that it can't get any worse or more embarrassing, the two women behind me start elevating their voices. So I half turn around to look at them, wondering what the hell I’ve got myself into when I realize, they aren’t angry at me, they're arguing with her, The Devil Babushka.

But whether or not they are on my side, I'm standing there, caught between two packs of Russian women howling through me, at me, and at each other. And I have no idea what to do. Do I leave? No, the whole point of this was to keep my spot in line. Will they kick me out of line? Will they kick her out of line? Will the police come? Oh F**k, what if the police come? Then what do I do?

As I'm panicking all of a sudden everything goes quiet. Eerily quiet. Calm before a hurricane kind of quiet. I look back and forth between the two groups. Everyone is staring at me.

What. Is. Happening?!?!

Nothing. Nothing Happens.

The two woman in front turned around and the Babushka, before she turns back around, throws me a nasty. I glance behind me in an attempt to smile and give a thumbs up to the two ladies who came to my rescue, but they ignore me.

So I'm stood there, in the exact same spot as I started, but a whole lot wiser.

Nothing drives a lesson home like experience.

So let me tell you, NEVER get in a fight with a Babushka.