Morning in a small town. The small parking near the court is almost entirely packed with expensive cars. In the gap between the jeeps merino and lexus is carried by a man on the scattered rust "Volga". Parking carefully but confidently. From the lexus in the window begins to whisper a long-haired chmo, uncertain sex, but understandable nationality: Wherever you lie, here you see what machines are standing! Cut it – I cut it!
The man quietly puts the car, goes out and says:
In fact, I am an oncologist and I don’t really know which car comes to me.
The important thing is to go with your own feet.
P.S. The doctor’s name is good. and real.