One of my acquaintances served as Lieutenant Colonel in the Western Group of Russian troops in Germany. His friends were very jealous of him, but in the middle
In the 90s, the Germans finally drove us out of there at their own expense. A healthy successful man in his fifty years left without work, not knowing exactly what to do in peaceful life. His beloved daughter at that time studied at the paid department of the prestigious Moscow university and could not imagine life without the specialty she received. A grandmother to finish her education was no longer anticipated. Having mobilized all his acquaintances, he arranged himself as an ordinary guard in one of the Moscow super popper special warehouses. It was a quiet, bready place. Guards there worked consistent retirees, former colonels-sub-colonels with links. But soon the warehouse was privatized, and they appointed a new chief of the guard - a very young guy. Whether it was uncomfortable for him to command people thirty years older than he was in his age, whether he wanted to place his young friends in a muddy place, but he began to survive the retirees with all kinds of reasonable bullying - he established for them the norms of sprinter running, pressing, squeezing and pulling, and he stood over them with a second meter, a notepad and an egregious smile. The retirees endured, scratched their teeth and fulfilled the norms – wherever they could find it.
Moscow is doing this. Soon, two of them resigned when their hearts were grabbed, and three other very strong men left together, saying briefly that they were tired of the shit. In their place came a young man. She held the mansion and actively survived the remaining with her own small pests. My acquaintance endured everything – his daughter at that time had only one year left to study. But one day the boss came up with a new norm – jumping a frog at speed. He this exercise to the retirees with the most bullying smile. And then my acquaintance did not stand – polite and relentlessly approached the young boss, lightning reception turned him, tightly grabbed his ears, high up in the air and began to give him powerful pencil, saying:
"Admit, shibzdik, that I have sufficient physical training without this exercise!" the chief complained in the air, desperately shrugged his legs and did not admit, the system was rotting, and the boys for their own never entered.

Half an hour later, my friend walked through summer Moscow hungry and without money for a return ticket to his hometown. In his Moscow rental apartment he could only return for five minutes to pick up things – he broke the honest officer's word to calculate for it from the receipt. He was fired from work without paying. But after exercising with his ears, he was good on his soul and easy on his heart. Next to him, a taxi driver stopped and said, "I am a retired man, I see that you are a good person, and that you are very bad. Do you want a job?”

I met the hero of this story a few years ago, just ringing a Moscow taxi. The exact year and even a month can be restored by the remaining clutch in memory - we then passed by the lightningly erected forty-storey on the Vernadsky Avenue, just when it began to be dismantled by the Moscow City Hall. By the time we met, he had long paid out his daughter’s training loans, learned how to make up to a hundred thousand a month, and easily paid off a monthly thirty for a taxi driver’s token. The Moscow apartment was given to him by his daughter who stood on her feet. He gave me eight hundred rubles, for which he
In Harbin or Shanghai, I could ride a taxi for at least a day until I was completely empty. But for such a story, I was not sorry for this money - at work, I sometimes want to hold someone tightly behind my ears, raise him high in the air and give him a pencil from the soul, regardless of the consequences...