On the other day with friends remembered who had the most exotic New Year.
All the banal stories, about the New Year in the bed with a thermometer and tea with raspberries, instead of champagne dropped out in the first round, a little later were recognized as uninteresting stories about the New Year under the palms, the banality of current times. In the end came my story, which is hard to imagine, but it was. I write it in the first person.
Shortly before the NH I met a charming girl, and immediately began to think like to meet the holiday and original, and with a hint for a continuation. My words were interrupted by an offer to celebrate the New Year.
by Dacia. That is how, with a tight shift, at least it was presented, without any specificity, only by emotions. The second half of the nineties, we are twenty years old, Dacha, New Year, romance. Naturally, I answered with my full consent, immediately expressing the willingness to participate in the preliminary organizational events, as well as in general words asked what was required from me. I was asked to wear warm clothes, well, of course, take a bedroom, well, yes, in the country can be tight with blankets, well and buy products on the list, this time spit. Arriving in euphoria, I did not attach importance to the request to take the bedroom, so I still missed unclear answers to such important questions - "What kind of dacha? “And whose is she? “And who will be? 』 In general, I felt a fireplace, champagne and pleasant, gay, naive, the night after the fight of curants.
We went by electric. After buying tickets to the desired platform, one hundred and twenty kilometers from the city, we began to look for those friends of my acquaintance, to whom we go. Here it turned out that you need to find some Masha, or Dasha, or maybe Natasha, who actually invited my acquaintance, and that in turn me. Who is this Dasha, I did not immediately understand, then it turned out that it was some very distant acquaintance, somewhere there. Finally we found her, and we were re-introduced, small, with the company that had gathered for a joint New Year meeting. I shouldn’t have been childish anymore. The company turned out to be very diverse, the core of five people, two boys twenty-five with a little years old, the girls clearly younger, another fifth like us young, obviously the same acquaintances of acquaintances, and a man, fifty years old, who was presented as a famous bard. Three-quarters of the company are young women. A man I will call.
“A man,” his name is really well known, and he is unlikely to want to remember this story. A total of a dozen with a small variety of hairy people, and all on the same landscape. Oh well okay. The man and I looked around, and without speaking out expressed the opinion that it would be good to take a beer in the electric car, well in those times, the larks were almost on the platforms. We were squeezed, rightly noticed that to go a long time, there are no toilets, achieving a statement that “who wants to drink will be able to buy everything they want around the clock at the station, there is even cognac.” How could I miss this “even cognac”? The euphoria of light love and pressure in the testicles deprive men of healthy thinking and a sense of self-preservation.
If not counting the fact that my friend and man were the only ones who bought tickets, and the rest hoped to jump through, but did not jump through, a terrible fine, the trip went quietly, then we arrived normally. The man somehow immediately penetrated to me, and told me that with the company, those who are older, met at the next concert of the author's song, and they invited him, long persuaded, and that he feels "the back" that the adventure is just beginning. That the adventure is all ahead, I personally realized, when the owner of the house jumped sharply, shouted “to the exit”, and the whole crowd fell on the perron. The Perron? Nea, a banal semi-station, with a kilometre instead of its own name. Looking into the forest around us in vain tried to see, no, not the store, the hell with it, at least signs of human presence, did not see. There was the railway itself, and a snow-filled graviola going into the forest. All, nothing more! The eyes of the holidaymakers turned to the owner of the country, the same, in the form of a nervous joke, said that he broke off the account and we went to one station earlier, but here is only fifteen kilometers. To my horror, the majority of those present even laughed, saying with whom it does not happen, and some fifteen kilometers, with heavy bags, minus eighteen - it's easy. The man dumbly wondered when the next electric stop here,
“Tomorrow,” the joke replied, and encouraged everyone that now quickly catches the car, and we will go. All in one car!
We went out on the road, and really quickly caught the truck, the driver refused to put us in the body, so it was decided that the owner of the country and all our bags go to one of his known turn to the country cooperative, and we go on foot. Thankfully to all the gods, the owner of the house was wrong, it was not fifteen kilometers to go, not more than ten, and in two hours, along the paved road, we reached the turn, picked up our crumbling bags and went into the depths of a small gardening on, not so weak, snow cello.
It dimmed. No, it is not the evening in the city, it is the evening in the deaf gardening in which there is no, there was no, and probably there will be no light, no water, no heat. They arrived at home in the dark. The house was a summer hole, four-to-four meters, with a loft and cracks in all the walls. On the street windless, but below twenty frosts, this was by the thermometer, the thermometer was the only object of civilization in this country. The people roared. I personally was already ready to stifle everyone, starting with the acquaintance, and ending with the close and distant relatives of the owner of the hollow, who invited so many people to this place in the winter, explicitly with the purpose of reaping mankind. There was no wood for the furnace of the bourgeoisie, there was almost no, half of the laying was enough of some spikes, and behind the "trees" we, me and a man, were sent to the nearest forest, behind the "dry stand". Such a useful invention as a tail, in these feathers was absent, was a column and a saw, so they broke the dry and dragged back to the house, only three hundred meters to the knee in the snow. We were lucky, or rather, the local chilly gardeners were unable to completely break out what was called the forest here. At the moment when I fell into the house, all wet and frozen, literally embracing the bourgeois, I already had all the signs of rabies. When he began to recover, he demanded a cognac, well or vodka, and a sandwich. In my mind it was so - I bought oranges, bread, and something like candy, and someone bought alcohol, we will count on the money. Anne is not. I was delighted that vodka, and more so there is no cognac, and in general those who are gathered here do not smoke, do not drink, and do not argue with mat. “What is there? “We cried out with a man who was not dry, nor was he better than me. “There are two bottles of brandy wine, but it’s for a holiday,” the host’s main friend told us, and in general the boys can make sandwiches themselves, while they, not drinking and not grieving the mate, prepare dinner for everyone. Naturally, nobody cooked anything, everyone tried to sit closer to the oven, and chewing the frozen bread in a snack with the frozen sausage, and contrary to the assurances of the friend of the owner, fed this same owner. Which like warming up, changing the socks for dry, hurricane, I didn't think in vain about the socks when I was gathering, the man and I started the inspection. It turned out that there is a chicken, frozen raw, in the form of “Bush’s legs,” remember those? There are, again ugly, ingredients for Olivier, some sausage, bread, a giant amount of citrus, and actually everything, except for the two boxes of candy that I bought personally. Have you roasted a frozen chicken on a hot to red bourgeois? If not, you have lost a little. The dish, regardless of the qualification of the cook, is raw, burned, and poorly edible. But I ate! A little later they warmed up, so that it could be cut, making up Olivier, which was made, and eaten. Just so, with the spoonful who got, a few forks and almost hands straight out of a huge bowl.
There was no tea, I forgot to buy it. In general, it turned out that the list of purchases was at least the enemy of the people leading active subversive activities! Twenty kilograms of citrus that we pearled, I would gladly exchange for a fifth of a bowl of strawberries and two kilograms of strawberries. Using his authority, the man picked out one of the bottles of wine, and we actually both drank it, the taste I did not remember. They slept far after midnight, missing the battle of the curants, and not caring about all the traditions of the meeting.
The New Year. We slept with a friend on this New Year's Eve night together, as I dreamed, only in dreams there was no plus ten in the room, and singing another eleven noses in the immediate vicinity. In the morning, to our surprise, we slept until ten in the morning, the man offered to go home, and the sooner, the better. After the wood burned in the bourgeoisie, the house cooled to an unacceptable temperature. I personally did not have to persuade, wearing boots, and putting on a shirt, I asked my companion what her plans were. I was told that “they” would come back all together, and in general in the house to clean up! Turning a finger at the whisker, my husband and I went out in the early dawn, and broke to the platform. My acquaintance caught us in ten minutes, that there, in the country, a horrible quarrel began, with attempts to physically execute everyone with everyone. It no longer concerned us. O wonder, next to the platform worked a small store, beer and vodka snack. The first of January, at eleven o’clock in the morning, and the store was working, the vodka was very questionable, but there was a cognac, Dagestan, three stars, as I remember now, the owner of the country did not lie. For the angry, by local concepts, money we bought the last two bottles, something more from food than we were afraid to poison. The most surprising thing that we perfectly got to the house, I did not get sick, but very soon turned the relationship with a friend, and did not know the fate of the owner of the country.