You look like a Stanislav

My apartment building is not all that unfriendly, given the usual nature of Ukrainian apartment buildings. This could be due to the fact that the residents of my building are somewhat rich by Ukrainian standards, or foreign (well, at least one foreigner...that Italian guy). By not "unfriendly" I mean that some people talk to me in the elevator. The old lady with the cane and the dashchound (sp?) always talks to me. Some guy the other day asked if I knew what the weather was going to be like the next day. "Nice," I said, which was true, at least according to the Yahoo forecast. So I am now used to the occasional question in the elevator that is not "Going down?" A few days ago a couple got into the elevator a few floors down from me. I am not sure which had the more powerful scent, the girlfriend/wife/lover/secret lover's perfume, or the dude's leather coat. Probably the coat. Still, I was listening to some podcast about the history of the tank between the world wars, which is why the following conversation took me off guard.
Dandy in the leather coat: "Are you Stanislav?"
Me: "What?"
Dandy in the leather coat: "Are you Stanislav?"
Me: "No."
Girlfriend/wife/lover/secret lover of dude in leather coat: "Why did you ask that?"
Dandy in leather coat: "I heard about a guy named Stanislav living upstairs."