I rented an apartment.

A man lived, after a time began to delay payment.

Soon he said that he did not pull the apartment and will come together, but he has no money.

He agreed to take the passport in bail, promised to give the money in two weeks; and disappeared.

My passport was in my home.

Four years later, a girl calls, calls his name and asks to give him a passport, in exchange is ready to pay his debt.

They met, it turned out, she is pregnant, he promises to get married, but with a passport settled.

I was ashamed to call.

The fiancé fucking.

Making your first million legally is real. difficult to survive.

The evening. I am standing in the line to the food box. A man in front of a miner. He patiently waited until the old lady had finished reporting to the treasurer for the wrong pricing and rounded around and only wanted to hand over the bottle for payment, as he was wiped off by the stunned lady, who had just flattered at the turn of all the others.

“I only have sausages!” - correctly notices the lady, pushing the servette stick forward on the tape.

The treasurer is indifferent to the goods, as at this moment the guy calmly takes and launches the sausage along the ballistic trajectory somewhere deep in the hall.

“You don’t have a sausage...” and stretches out his water for payment.

I don’t know why, but I felt brighter.

The Valentines Special. of $100.
We come and arrest you in front of the girl/wife the day before. Let go in 24 hours. The price includes a place for fishing, beer, snack, tent and table games to choose from.
We come in shape with shorts.

My childhood was in the north of Tyumen, where there was absolutely no agriculture. There are berries in the forest, but there are no gardens with potatoes and carrots, around the sand, especially nothing grows, so the northern children of those years did not even know what urticaria is, not to mention the rest (as there is now - I don't know, but the strawberries appeared everywhere, we didn't have them). After school, I went to study in Ural. Flowering apples, topolish puff - all this I saw here, I can say, for the first time.

And here I have lived in the Urals for more than 25 years, and my agricultural sleepiness never passes. I have been going to my husband’s parents for nine years and, fucking, I can’t distinguish one bush from the other.  The last time I was assigned to grind last year's leaves from under the rice, I was all upset, grinded carefully. The man approached and said, “You’re probably all out?” Oh, I say, I also noticed that this is a variety of another, those two bushes did not collapse at all. And he replies, "Of course, because those two bushes are a carrot, and this one is a carrot!"

But the funniest was when I was looking for garlic in the market. I needed a local, not a Chinese. I ran once - there is no one, I go back - my grandmother is sitting, she has a bunch of strawberries, peanut butter and garlic a few heads. I ask, “What is your garlic?” She says, “Girl, it’s gladiolus.” My husband cried in the voice. How do I know, maybe a new one?! to

In short, working at the country I am not especially persuaded, and after the caterpillar got stuck in the swimsuit in the bath (picked the drizzles), so in general try not to leave in nature without supervision. But here with the blades I figured out: now it is not triangular and square, but stitch and sovkova!

In the 1970s, my grandmother went on a trip to Sochi. Their group was accompanied by a guide, let it be Vera, as the grandmother said, a very good woman. They became friends during the trip.

Once it turned out that Vera was from Omsk, like my grandmother. The further dialogue:

B: On which street do you live?

A: Oh, I live in the most beautiful place of Omsk, on the Irtysh Shore.

B is yes? I am there too. In which house?

A: In such a way.

B: I am the same. And the apartment?

A: The 55th

B is :? I have 56!



This is how my grandmother met her neighbors. Then they communicated for a few more years until Vera moved.