I remember, I was 17, I walked around Arbat with a screw, a girl also looks like a seventeen, juicy peach is simple, and asks, say, do you want to listen to a lecture about pure love? There, nearby, is my apartment. I, the fool, agreed (in Arbat and not so offered), and in the end I naturally read a lecture about pure love. No one has divorced me so brilliantly anymore.