I go to the office, chew the bread, pick up the billboards.

Behind the compost is a man sitting, we looked at each other, and I continued to chew, took the plugs and went.

He says to me: Who are you?

I am the driver, and you?

He: I am the director.

Dmitry, I am very pleased.

I shake his hand and go under the wild whistle of colleagues.