Yesterday, at the beginning of the seventh evening, I got into an untrained traffic jamming on the ring in Adler. The mood is shit. And there is still a dull haishneh, trying to regulate the flow of cars, who pushed wherever, hindered the way. I sit, crawling through my teeth, watching the haishnogo. After stopping our flow, it begins, strongly gesturing the guides, from the other row, calling not to dwell and sharper progress. He started with the fact that, just actively working with his brush, he made longitudinal swings with his rod, but, apparently, this seemed to him not enough. Then he dropped the rod on the rope and began to roll it up like a propeller. And so, the painting - stands a haishnogo in the middle of the traffic jams and depicts Carlson, but with a propeller in front. And here at the rod, the same brushed rope and the rod flies away in the sky. The fainting face of the haishnogo, shaking his head and accompanying the glimpse of the rod flying away from him, was not soon forgotten to me. Never before have I seen so many smiling faces in the traffic jams.