Comrade

We got an Uber home from the airport after flying back from our conference.
The Uber driver’s name was Sergei and he spoke with a thick Russian accent. His car stereo was playing a Russian podcast of some sort, which he hurriedly switched off when we got in the car.
After a brief chat about the weather and if he’d been busy or not, my friend asked him where he was originally from. “Uruguay!” He said. “Oh! Do you speak Spanish then?” I asked but he didn’t reply, muttering something about having moved here when he was 13. He didn’t say much after that but he certainly had a very Eastern European approach to car safety. It was a far more adrenaline infused trip than it normally would be. I’m cursing myself now I didn’t check if the car was a Lada.
Apparently he warmed up a bit after he dropped me home, becoming positively garrulous.  My friend ended up giving him a tip so he could stock up on vodka.