xxx: Well, fric is not fric, but five years ago on the sidewalk on Lenin's street, in the area of the club Giant walked a man whom I referred to as a "dissident." In winter I didn’t see him, and in summer and autumn he was always dressed in a suit, a light shirt and a narrow stylish tie-sleeve. On the nose round glasses in a methyl cover. In a loaded pocket. If you do not know his weirdnesses - a spilled professor.
He walked, putting his hands behind his back and turned around his axis exactly every four steps. He looked at him if there was any surveillance. And one day, when he was overtaken by a young woman, he took a few cautious steps toward me, looking dangerously at the sides, covered his mouth with his hand and whispered frighteningly and mysteriously: "This woman has a... yes!