The senior researcher, let’s call him here S.M.S., had the reputation of a gruesome and a mother-in-law. However, he treated me warmly, despite the significant age difference at 19. This, in particular, could be explained by the fact that I quickly understood and accepted his rules of play. So, for example, my appearance in his room was always accompanied by the same ritual. I quietly opened the door and looked carefully into the room. If the S.M. Concentratedly writing or, even more concentratedly, digging something in the probes, I also quietly closed the door and disappeared to better times. If the S.M. I looked relaxed, intentionally loudly opened the door and broke into the room with a scream: “Michalych, where is the tea?” He immediately broke the stool from the chair and began to witch over the cow that had darkened from many years of tea drinking.

Our laboratory is adjacent to the S.M.S. Laboratory. At the time, we were engaged in micromanipulation, which required not only concentration, but also appropriate equipment, such as very heavy and durable tables. It was impossible to buy such tables, so my boss and I designed and ordered from the institute workshops tables cooked from shellers. At the same time, under the noise, we made cabinets of sheet iron. To say that the cabinets are heavy means to underestimate their weight. The cabinets were very heavy. It is time to hang them. It was a difficult task. First, my boss and I both raised the closet to the shoulder level, then my boss moved to the middle of the closet, holding it on his shoulders and with his head bent. At this point, I flew up on an old scattered fence and tried to get the screws in the crushing dumbels. Naturally, the holes in the wall coincided with the holes in the cabinets only in zero approximation and I tried to stretch the iron cabinet in the right direction for the missing fractions of a millimeter. The bullshit was far from the first attempt. We were both wet and angry, although the open door provided some ventilation. Of course, everyone who passed by stopped to admire the spectacle and let go of a complacent commentary such as, “Do you commit adultery? “Then do adultery.”

When I pulled one of the last screws in my exhalation, S.M.S. appeared in the door, and he did not let go of his part of comments. And here I broke. In a few phrases I proclaimed out loudly that I had committed adultery repeatedly with S.M.S. himself. and his closest relatives, and also indicated the main directions in which he should immediately go. S. M. S Khumuro looked at me and, without saying a word, went out.

Soon only the fairy tale, as you know, has an effect, but it is time for me to fix the last screw in the wall. Tired, I went out to the hallway to breathe fresh air and, at the same time, blow a cigarette. I met with S.M. He walked a heavy rolling walk of a heavy man, staying as usual with his eyes on the floor. We settled together and I asked as calmly as possible:

Mikhail, did you get hurt?

Avoid looking me in the eyes, S.M. He said quietly but clearly:

and fucking.

Then he took a pause and repeated louderly:

and fucking. After all, I knew, fucking, that you can’t go up to a man when he works... Where did you use, fucking?

A stone fell from my heart and I said:

“Who is without sin, Michael? And I have, however, fresh tea already made, Indian. Let’s go on a row?

- Oh, you are still divorcing, and I will only turn on the centrifuge to cool down, - and immediately entertained S.M.S. He rushed toward the centrifugal room.

P.S If any of the readers recognized my hero, remember him with a kind word. He was an innocent and just man.