When I was an intern in IT in the olden days a manager once decided to send an apology gift to every single employee for his botched project. It was a switch from analog phones to VoIP with Skype that really wasn’t so complicated but left a bunch of people without working phones for days. The gift? A snickers bar in a big paper bag with a sticker on it. I had to put three hundred stickers on those bags and then hand them to people who were very confused to find a tiny snickers in them. Now they told me to hand it out with a smile and tell them we’re really sorry but I’d hand them out with my best I’d-really-rather-be-somewhere-else-face and say “trust me, nobody finds this more stupid than me.”
So I can’t speak Russian? That’s rough. I guess I’d try to stare everyone down until they get nervous and leave. Sometimes nod when people talk to me, sometimes just walk away from them. Oh no, he’s giving me the silent treatment they’ll think. Better not make him mad. Let them worry about the windows. Meanwhile I plan my escape through South America to LA where I live as a not-Putin impersonator. Hide in plain sight.