Another story about the Missouri disaster.
The disposition is the same: the 90s, one successful Internet provider, Misha.

The eighth day of March, that is, the seventh. Two-thirds of the group is female. Those men who managed to get rid of work, smoking and porn sites were occupied:

Organization of a festive table (two monitors at the Gazeli office went to the food market).
Purchasing gifts (the deputy director personally jumped into his Lanser and went to friendly wholesalers for perfume).
And also - flowers (Misha was sent on foot to the florist, the goods of the florists in the district were - like naked in the bathroom). My mission was somewhat blurred: to buy the best flowers. The military knows that the wording of the order should not allow for discrepancies. The army chief did not serve.

The table is covered. Group in anticipation. The ladies are dressed, beautiful, red and radiate fluids of happiness. Sissamins look carnivorously at the battery of bottles, then at the ladies, then again at the battery of bottles. There is no mice. These are all mobile phones from the kindergarten. And then it was exclusively a business VIP attribute. Therefore, to find out what traits are wearing Misha and where exactly - was not possible.

The clock ticks. The expectation is replaced by mild nervousness. Ladies are missing. Sisadmin has saliva, like a dog tightly attached to a sausage store. The boss gives a bucket, good gifts in place. And the flowers... Well, will this Misha ever appear? Then we give.

Congratulations, kisses, toasts and fun. Missy is still out.
Another toast from the boss for the gentle violins of our friendly collective. Even more fun. Michi is still not, but it is not so critical anymore.
Dances, hihi-haha, me-husband-chet, again toasts Missy and the flowers were forgotten.

Walked a lot. The deputy director even had to come back from home at midnight to release six employees from the monkey, where they were caught for vocals, choreography and other afta-paths near the subway. Among them there was even a whole puppy...

March 9 was a bit cloudy. Some of my colleagues obviously hid their eyes. Part of them smiled. Someone was banally red like cancer. Someone combined all three qualities (who was in corporations will understand). The Sisadmin brought something into their room in a large bag and locked themselves there.

About Misha and the flowers, if you remembered, not before lunch, if not one circumstance. The female part of the team in turn approached Misha and knotted him in the cheek. Misha was obviously confused and pretended that he wasn’t there. On the fact of this phenomenon, an emergency investigation was conducted, which revealed the following.

Misha knew where there are the best flowers in the capital and the surroundings. He went to the station, sat in the electric car and went to the greenhouse somewhere or to Sergeyev-Posad, or Dmitrov (now I don't remember exactly where, somewhere north of Moscow). They said, “The best of the best.” The fault themselves.

On the way back, he managed to confuse the direction and went away. Back to Moscow, he returned at night with a huge bunch of flowers, picked up on the track by sympathetic long-distance drivers, because the last electric car was going somewhere not exactly where it should be.

Realizing his guilt in front of the team, he went to work the next morning, handed flowers to ladies from the service shift (providers are also working on holidays), learned the addresses of the other women and for the whole day traveled them all (!!!)Congratulations to the flowers. In this he, indeed, helped one of his colleagues with the car, because on the subway Misha would not have time.

By the way, the flowers were really fresh, fragrance and absolutely elegant. And almost not hurt by the logistics target.