Recently, a friend asked me about one of my brightest memories, when "the lion didn't go off the face." The most bright I did not remember from the course, but one moment I still remember very well.

In 9th grade we changed the teacher of physics, before that there was such an uncle with whores, who came, just dumb read the material and sometimes called to the board. After reading the theory, he sat down and did his business. Boring and incomprehensible. And behold, he went away, and a new teacher appeared, and he was quite young (years 23-24). Of course, everyone began to behave provocatively before him.

Despite his young age, he was the best physics teacher of all. He not only explained the material well, he was able to really interest. I even started reading the textbook not with difficulty, but it became really interesting. And my score from the former five (by 12 points) was 10-12, we even thought to go to the Olympics next year.

Unfortunately, closer to the middle of spring, he left for some reason, and we were replaced.

And then on the last call I saw him, and I went to say hello and just say thank you, for the fact that at least 1 year in school was memorable. I was so happy to see him that I asked him to embrace me. Instead, he raised me up and began to run around. At that moment I was so happy. And here I write this happiness and I really have a smile on my face).

I’m so glad I have such pleasant memories that make me feel good. and :)

I go with my nephew (student), and touched the topic of how doctors and teachers earn. I explain that they are budgeters, where they get their salary, and unintentionally I notice that their salary is small.

Why do people work for budgets? Do they not know that they pay little? My nephew asked.

Why did you take it? I asked.

How is it! There are budget phones, budget machines - this means that they are cheap. So those who work in budget organizations will also be paid little.

I had a date. So I decided to build a bathroom. I was told that in a couple of hundred kilometers from the city, cuts to the bath are doing. Compared to the city – much cheaper and quality at the level. I ordered. After a while, they call: ready your cut, take it.

I came and looked at the product (class!), agreed with the accompanying car, loaded and went. We left at night, and in the morning we were already there. However, upon arrival, the driver with the partner refused to provide assistance in unloading, even for a fee. Well, where am I at 6 in the morning, outside the city, in the country, to find cargoes? Even annoyed.

Here I remembered one of my friends, Mitte. In the past, we served together at OMON. I then moved to another position, and Mitty is there. I think: why do they run there in the OMON without reason, and the rails pull? Help your former colleague. I call Mitte, by the voice it is clear that the man from the bodyness or recently finished walking. I briefly explain to him: I came to the country, brought a rubbish, I can't unload one, help is needed! At the end of the wire there is silence, apparently narrowly thinking brother after a walk. Then I hear, "All, don't call me on the phone anymore, wait, I'll be soon!"

Okay, it’s good that Mitchell is coming soon. But he stopped the conversation sharply. Strange somehow. I didn’t even bother, because as a fascist, I painted his problems early in the morning. I sat on the wing, waiting. I went to sleep with my partner in the truck.

A 30-40 minute later, through a fence from the forest side, he jumps to me at Mitja's land. All dusted and evaporated, like from the marching through the crossed terrain. He approaches me, hits a car with a bath in the body and asks, without greeting, “Well, where is the corpse?” I am in the “which body”? Mitya closes her eyes and says, “Well, what you need to unload and hide.”

It turns out, Mitya was a little confused with the word I used in the conversation "srub" and perceived it as "carcass". Pommelie, 6 a.m., the quality of the telephone connection... Having understood my request in his own way, he responded to a friend’s request for help and took a taxi to leave the city. A few kilometers before the dacha, he dropped a taxi, hid a pre-off phone and went through the woods, trying not to be noticed, ran to me.

We safely unloaded it. And then they drank beer all day and life.

It was then that I realized that I had real friends who were ready to carry ammunition and unload bodies without asking any questions. All the questions and then...

For some reason, the confident and impartial “invisible hand of the market” promised to us has turned into a sweaty, greedy and stolen hand.

Problems

On Thursday, the boss held a meeting, the disbursement was arranged capital, the deadlines were delayed, the claim work was not established, the percentage of marriages increased, the quarterly premium is not to wait, if not eliminated. and etc.

We left the meeting, went out to the fresh air, we stood with a colleague, and he was somewhat dumb, silent, thoughtful.
I say:

- Max, don't worry you so, we will correct the situation now, the cause of the marriage has been identified, corrective measures are already being carried out, not for the first time, we will break. solve the problem.

He silenced and then said:
- You know, my wife and I go to the children's hospice on Saturdays, my wife is a volunteer, animator, and I do, help when there is time. Yesterday, my wife asked me to go with her after work. On Saturday we go on vacation.
They organized a children’s party, a theme party. At the end of the evening at the delivery of gifts, a boy, 7 years old, approaches Alena and asks:

Why did you come today, we thought you would come on Saturday?

On Saturday we can’t, we’re going on vacation.

Of course, for a long time?

for 2 weeks.

Long time, sorry

Why is?

I’m going to make a painting on Saturday, I’d like to give it to you.

You will give it after the holidays.

Two weeks long. I have an operation tomorrow, it’s fourth, I can’t wait for you. Oh I invented! I will give Svetlana Ivanovna, she will give you if anything.

The boy escaped. This boy has problems, and we have small difficulties at work in achieving the tasks.

The story was in December 2019, the boy was waiting, but now he is no longer. Maxim's painting at work, hanging on the wall, he says, not to forget what the real problems are.
The quarterly prize has never been awarded, and damn it.

If the president, after leaving the bunker, sees his shadow, the quarantine will last for another six weeks.

In the wave to say so. Grandma and granddaughter are waiting for guests from afar. There is also a grandmother, only with her granddaughter. The children have never met or communicated. On the eve of the arrival, the grandmother gives the grandson of ZU: "Maxim, behave well, share toys, and in general, when guests do not need to "pull the blanket on yourself." The child's eyes are rounded by horror: "I, what, should I sleep with her?“?”

When I was a little boy, aged five to six, my dad and I went into the elevator, and our neighbor came in with us. Growth below 2 meters. The elevator runs, the usual uncomfortable silence, and here I say to Dad:

- Well, do you remember the quote "Uncle Stepa is a giant, golden eyebrows, in summer wearing a shirt and in winter trousers"?

Dad just stunned at his neighbor and became very thick red.

Then they told me what I was going to do at home. But the expression of the father’s face, when he seemed ready to give everything in the world just to fail through the earth, I still remember.

The manifestation of childish directness caught me in a semi-empty tram that took us home on a hot summer day.

At one of the stops in the transport appeared a couple of girls-representatives of the near abroad, each accompanied by two or three children.

When the seven sat down on the shops, the daughter carefully examined them and asked me a sacramental question:

Why are they black?

I asked again because I didn’t hear it, or if I was squeezed by surprise. The four-year-old boy repeated with a ringing voice:

Why are we white and they are black?? to

I started the ultra-tolerant talk that all people are different and the color of the skin, like the color of the eyes, can also be different. There are people who are black and even more white than us. What this affects is the country where people were born or their families and bla bla bla.

One of my moms started touching me. The shopper was uncomfortable. If I knew the cherry cake would come later.

My daughter asked me where black people came from and whites came from, and she seemed to be calm.

Already standing in the door, before leaving the tram, the daughter once again looked carefully at this companion and said:

How good that we are white, yes, Mom?

When I was small, 5 years of age, my weakness was to find my mom’s cosmetics, use it as intended (not always) and run to my mom with screams: “Mom, am I beautiful? “The beautiful?” She smiled and replied, “Beautiful, beautiful... Just like a monkey!”

At the same time we visited my mother's brother and wife. One evening they were gathering for an event and, of course, the uncle’s wife marathoned before leaving. I sat next to and admired how my beloved aunt became so beautiful and dressed that at the end I could not stand and with all childish enthusiasm and tenderness cried, "Aunt Gula, you are so beautiful! As a monkey!”

It was only then that I learned that the monkey is a Tatar monkey.

My father had a walk by the grandmothers. As long as I remember, I have always flirted with women.

He and I used to go for a walk while his mother was cooking and cleaning up at home, and he couldn’t think of anything smarter than walking by his grandmothers, dragging me after him. Take a cup of tea and talk to a friend.

Probably he thought I was small, I didn’t think about anything and I didn’t understand anything. Partly it was. Well what? I was visited. Candy with sweets in front of me put, cartoons included - I am pleased.

And what they do there in the kitchen or in the neighboring room - I was not interested.

During the summer holidays, he also travelled with me several times. On the sea, in the sanatorium.

I remembered one episode very well.

I am 4-5 years old in the area. In the evening my father brought me to visit a woman. Not one to leave me is small.

They talked, they drank something. Very late already. I begin to fall asleep.

They decided to put me to sleep. Something in her room.

Sleep like that. I slept.

I woke up at night because of something, well, like any little child, in an unfamiliar environment, began to sneeze.

This woman came to me. and naked.

Even in the dark, but I knew it.

I was kissed somehow. I told something. Maybe a story. I no longer remember.

In the morning, I did not think about what happened. It disappeared before leaving the memory. The childhood though. So much interesting around.

He returned home from the sanatorium.

My father went to the store.

My mother asks. Where were they, where were they?

I tell: to the beach, to the zoo, to the cafe, to the park, to the movie, to my aunt.

Mother is surprised:

Which aunt?

I, absolutely, without a back-thinking thought, simply proclaim what remembers:

and naked.

It was an epic moment. My mother began to ask me about everything.

I tell you all honestly. What I remember, of course.

The scandal at home was serious. My mother drove my father out of the house. He explained for a long time, relying on the fact that I invented everything myself. I never confessed. Like convincing my mother.

She had a persistent belief that her father simply could not change her.

Of course, he did not take me anywhere else.

My friend worked as an engineer in one of the structures of Yukos, chased for the watches on the oil plant in Siberia, the money was enough, but when Yukos collapsed they all cut. Sitting without work for 2-3 months, can not find a job, no money, family, a small child.



From great despair, he decided to go to the carrier, called one organization, he was told to take documents and resumes.



When the employee of the human resources department arrived, took the documents, was ready to register for work, but looked at the resume and said:

Sorry, but you don’t fit me.

The friend began to wonder – why, moll?

She - you have experience in the specialty, higher education, find yourself a normal job, here is a contingent of alkashi and zeki in the loads. A friend began to convince that the family, no money, has agreed to any work. The staff said - no and do not persuade, I will not take you, do not ruin your life, look for a normal job.



The friend was upset, but the woman was right, he eventually after some time found a job in the specialty and made a good career.