and Odessa. New boutique in the Eurostile style. Behind the shelf is a large odyssey with a cigarette on the mouthpiece. All shelves are packed with leather bags, bags and bags. In the center is carried forward in a glass bowl with the illumination of a miracle riddle. All so careful, brown, brown.

“Oh,” the girl jumps up and begins to scream, “look what a bag! And from what is she? ! to (This is for the seller)

The seller looks complacent and unwavering. Hands on the chest, cigarette smoke.

The Pony...

From whom?

From the Pony!

and oh! This cute little horse? ! to Oh, what a ja-a-alcohol!

The saleswoman, blowing a cigarette, surrounds the whole hall with her hand.

Are you not sorry for the cows?

I worked in a very large office. And I had a girl there in the bosses – a very clever lady, and what there – a rare genius of the mind personality. And she was absolutely "graphic", everything in her life was built on forecasting, on elaborate time management tables, on charts and other charts. I was not in a close relationship with her, but as a trusting person, because the "Iron Lady" was sometimes bad at heart, and I had her a rope.

And here, somehow, when I looked through with her all her charts, aspirations and other labours (very important and well-worked), I stumbled over one sheet, asked, what is that?

And the “Iron Lady” answered, and killed me with her response. It turns out – it was the schedule of her “private life.” She has already pleaded that within a year she will be sent to the central, capital branch, where she had already had a "pre-planned" relationship with one of the locksmiths, taking into account both her own and common investments, it was divided into "two ways" - the acquisition of personal housing, the accumulation of holidays, and the timing of the child's birth. That is, when she was not married, she had already pretended in advance - how much she would get pregnant, how much she would give birth, by the time of the accumulated leave she should have enough for something there, just as pretended about what and how she would be doing at a distance, because she was not going to quit work during the period of "bearing and feeding".

I say:

- Listen, and what if... and what if you can't give birth, - if honestly, I was afraid to ask this question, because... Well, somehow it's not complicit to ask such questions, but at the same time I knew that she has a lot of problems on the female part...

"Look, if it doesn't come out before thirty-five, this is an adoption, it is desirable, of course, to be two years old, a boy.

A strange child is not stressful.

He is still a child.

and clearly.

So, years have passed, I have not worked in that office for a long time, almost eleven years have passed since then. What is the “Iron Lady”? And nothing - raises an adoptive son with the same "blind" in the apartment bought there, in the capital, and everything happened exactly as she planned.

GDP should have doubled, and it has fallen.

Good time of day! (24 June 2020)
The story is neither funny nor tearful. But I thought I needed to tell her.
This is the story of a grateful man.
Yesterday, my neighbors and I played football: children from nine years old (my son and neighboring boys) and their parents up to 40 years old. So it turned out that my son was on the path of the ball, which quickly flew toward the gate. He protected his gates, of course, but he did not get weak in the liver. I was very scared for my son. He was lying down, crying and couldn’t breathe properly. It was 20:40, at this time, paid hospitals no longer work, and we had to go to the district free hospital.
The District Hospital! The largest and the only one in a few nearby small towns!
She was in a deplorable state... Even in a very deplorable state... And that despite the fact that she was just a few dozen kilometers from the ICAD. About those hospitals that are further (1000-2000km from Moscow) I know nothing, I have not been.
Destroyed road to the main entrance, minimal lighting, old dull corridor, tight unequipped reception room, etc. I will not list further, I think to many so clearly.
From 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. there was a disinfection of the COVID premises at the hospital, so we were asked to go out and wait there. From such a request, some “modern people” from weak helpless patients immediately turned into fierce fighters against the rules of the hospital. Especially women older than average age.
No, you must accept me now, right now. Otherwise, tomorrow I will complain to the chief doctor, after tomorrow to the Ministry of Health, and then to someone else. I will get you all fired, you all owe me! I do not want and will not wait. And then continue at this pace for 20 to 30 minutes.
I saw that the nurse was tired of explaining to them that disinfection was essential for the safety of patients and staff.
Now the most important thing: the state of the health workers and why I am infinitely grateful to them.
While we were sitting in line, at least 5 ambulances arrived at the hospital, plus people were walking their way. All the doctors and health workers were women. They themselves were engaged in “loading and unloading” work, while being extremely polite and careful. I have never heard of them being rude to patients. Worked clearly, smoothly and quickly. I was overwhelmed by the sadness of how fragile cute girls loaded a drunken man out of the module onto the catwalk (I helped them, so don’t blame) and rushed away for the next challenge, as well as from their tired eyes, not very up-to-date equipment and worn-out clothes. By the way, who can tell who should wash and update the shape of health workers? Do doctors or hospitals have specially equipped laundry rooms?
The medical staff of the hospital was dressed in single-use protective coats, masks, hats, and surgical gloves. But it was noticeable that these medical single-use clothes have long since become reusable. Or just come into an inappropriate condition for a replacement. I can only guess because I don’t know exactly.
In a small, damp, unconditioned reception room worked a doctor and several nurses. The windows with the torn mosquito grids were opened up, so that there was enough air for everyone. Inside the room and in the corridor were flying mosquitoes and drinking blood of choice.
I am very grateful to our doctors, nurses and other health workers that even in such conditions they do their job greatly. No one is told that they are hot, cold, or a lot of mosquitoes, no shower, no well-equipped toilet, no TV, no free dinner, no transportation (the hospital is far enough from the city center); they do not complain that patients are screaming at them as if they should do repairs in the hallways so that it is comfortable to wait for their turn or the results of the tests.
Sometimes it happens that one taxi driver for 15 minutes of travel with their complaints about the price of gasoline and bad roads so washes your brains that the next time you will think well before you take a taxi. And these brave people say nothing to anyone, silently do their job!
Here’s how the doctor told my son:
Hi my friend! What happened to you? Playing a football? Scored a goal? The door protected. What a good man! Strongly hit? Was it hurt? and crying? You will grow up a little and become a good footballer. I will go and watch your game. It hurts here, and here? No is? well well. Let’s donate blood and I’ll let you go home soon.
- Olya, take the boy's tests and bring the results faster. He needs to sleep, he’s tired of waiting here for a long time.
“Well, you are okay, nothing wrong. Just a murder. Rest a few days and you can continue to play.
- Dad, if suddenly he gets sick, headache or vomiting, for example, then come to me immediately. I will take you without a turn. Go on, don’t get sick.
I thought she would talk to us sharply and roughly, make us wait until morning or come the next day. And she was so calm and pleasant to communicate with us that I wanted to hug her. If I had more money, I would buy them something.
Thank you dear doctor! For your courage, for your work. for your sleepless nights. Thank you for everything!
We hope that you will have the same good conditions as in our paid clinics.
Celebration of Victory!

A TV journalist takes an interview with a woman on the street.
Do you agree to amendments to the Constitution?
of course. We will have more qualified teachers and doctors in the country. The literacy of the population will increase, the number of talented scientists will increase.
A slightly faint journalist asks:
Sorry, in which country?
In the ours.
Which city are you from?
From Tel Aviv.

How by myself? How to work? As a family?

and normal.

Well, well that is normal. Borrowing 5,000 dollars?

Kiss me on my shoulder.

Why on the shoulder?

You have also begun from far away.

My grandfather had three pigs. They were called Chruscha, Phila and Stepa. They said they were my pigs and they should be watched. I regularly went to feed them and clean the pork. It was fun and very exciting. In playing I imagined myself as a fairy tale hero who would help the pigs and defeat the evil wolf. I was terribly jealous of my friends when I talked about these amazing and already grown-up beauties.



One morning I noticed a large number of men and women at the pig farm. They laughed and drank. I heard the wild whisper of my pigs and ran toward them. After running, I saw how the neighbor’s grandfather, by a clever movement, killed Phile, who was lying on his side. I was caught and held, laughing at my hysteria.

Further, I remember the smell of a petroleum lamp, smelling the death of the intestines in the pelvis, a bunch of people who chose a piece better.



The words of my grandmother:

What are you cheering? But you still have a cock, call it Petya!

Two years ago, I went on a business trip to America. At some point, a black man was trying to slip ahead of me. I asked him to get up at the end of the line. He instantly picked up the air in his chest and said very loudly and hysterically, “Is that all because I’m black? “!”

I am a non-conflict person and quite scary to aggressive people who are bigger than me. But at that moment, without expecting myself, I calmly gave up:

“No is. That’s because I’m Russian” and with the wildest Russian accent added, “do you have any problems?”

There was silence in the cafe. The black man was slightly discolored and left. I never understood because of the fear of stereotypes about dangerous Russians or he did not know what to answer because of a system error.



P.S. Cassir was noticeably respectful to me.



P.S. Then I tried all day to figure out where I got this last phrase from. And I remembered, it was in the performances of the standaper, he told how he was saved by the Russian accent in a critical situation) It really saves and I did not think that this whole Russian beetle could ever be useful in life. Thanks to the American cinema for the images of the Russians shot on their heads.