The secret of the yellow suitcase
No matter how much we fight with corruption in Russia, it will not go anywhere - we will not give it. I don’t know how it will be with the big deals, but here our bureaucratic little things are fed by us. Of course, who of us hasn’t tried to escape the fist through “respect”? The fatter chinushs themselves hint, the more humble can joke about "I don't drink flowers and candy", the most shy need a mandatory recommendation from a common acquaintance. What I’m telling you, everybody has come across.
In short, it was a fairy tale. Here is the story itself.
At the beginning of the hungry 90s, I had a need for a treasury institution to issue documents. A lot of documents... I did not know how to give in my youth, so I was ready in advance to run for the missing certificates, to the claims “why there is no signature here” and so on.
Two sleepy uncles, sitting at the same table opposite each other, with disgust on their faces cuddled tea. One of them took my papers and, without even looking at them, whispered about being wildly busy and unable to do it until tomorrow afternoon. What put me in a wild disappointment: to go back to work and steal for 50 verts to another area. Once upon a time, a miserable whining came out of me: "Is it possible somehow... Well, I really need... I would be grateful..."
The uncles looked around, then appreciated my submissive overwhelming at the threshold, then looked around again and apparently came to a silent agreement. One, putting off a cup of tea, nodded the other to the side of anthrosols:
Nikolai, get the man an Emergency Bag.
A colleague pulled out of an anthrosols a suitcase, which turned out to be a lost suitcase - a "diplomat" and, on my silent question, "Why?He knocked his finger in the window:
Coffee on the road. You will find out.
With a terribly conspiratory and a little stupid look, I drowned to understand. In the cafe, putting the "diplomat" on the table, I slowly opened the lid, waiting to see everything I wanted - a gun with an extinguisher and a photo of the convicted, a pile of secret documents and passwords. Reality was easier. The instructions were striking with their conciseness: on the inside of the lid were glued serpents of labels from Zhygulevsky beer. 6 on the bottom and 2 on the top. That’s how I put them in the box. The bottles lay in the "diplomat" precisely and tightly, as if it was created under them.
And in a few hours my paper issue was safely solved.
Why am I reminded of this old story now? I just had to make the same documents again and went to the same city again. But today, the solution of such problems authorities have given for ransom to the individuals, to whom I was in the office a few days ago. A very pleasant surprise became the same two uncles, but already in the role of business owners. Stunned, squeezed, solid, they accepted me in their office, listened and, having scratched my papers to the secretary, promised to quickly arrange everything. within a week. Knowing that a lot of water has leaked over so many years and these are serious people with serious wealth, I still risked:
What about an emergency bag?
For a few seconds, my friends looked at me silently. Then on each other. Finally one struck my partner in my direction and respectfully said, “Client!”
I, of course, did not expect to see the lost "diplomat", but I was not surprised by the small netbook bag handed to me. Right on the doorstep I opened it impatiently, guessing about the current rates for urgency. From the cover of the bag, I am amused to look at the label of cheap but decent cognac and the sprinkled bone of the children's domino "dubble - lemon". I appreciated humor.
And what do you think has helped me solve the question in one day: a bottle of cognac and two fragrances of ripe lemons, or businessmen’s nostalgia for their former “budget” past?