Once a long time ago, somewhere in the 90s, the year I can't remember exactly, in Peter just started to appear in a massive order of good foreigners. My classmate first of our suitcases bought some Japanese "parquet" b / u, but in very decent condition. We agreed to meet him in the center, have a coffee and discuss something. Then it turned out that we were on the way, and he called me to throw. It was near Vladivostok. We approach his car, and there are two men, obviously over 40, in costumes, talking about something with a pathos look. One of them, more blatant, has a expensive leather folder in his hands. And he looked carelessly at his friend’s car. We approach - two very young looking boys, apparently up to 30, in tinted jeans and t-shirts. We stand next door. We wait. Interestingly, the man may have confused the car. But then there were not so many foreigners as there are now. And in the vicinity, as far as I was able to notice, there was no other foreign brand at the time - only domestic cars. All the Moscovites and Zhyguli, Zaporozhye with the Volgas. Or maybe that man, just dust in the eye to let somebody decide. I do not know. But we stood with a friend next to the car and looked. By the way, a friend in half a voice explained to me something about this brand of cars. Suddenly, a blushed man with a folder makes a chubby face and says to us in a strict voice:

Boys, get out of the car!

I am silent, I am interested. A friend, a boy with a good sense of humor, says:

The Uncle! You are sorry! Can we just ride a little? He wipes off the shoulder of the man with the folder from the driver’s door, opens the car, we sit down and leave.



I should have seen this picture with oil. Especially the second man, who reached and who was half-shaped from the hood.