In the middle of the zero, having completed the first course of the institute, prepared for a planned operation on the knee joint. Before all operations, tests for HIV, syphilis and hepatitis are always taken. I passed the analysis in a paid clinic (the deadlines burned), I come for the results.

- Yes, graforlov0904, your results are ready, test for HIV, hepatitis and syphilis - positive.

In the sense? Can’t, it is a mistake! - I understand myself that I did not do any injections, with the girls in the first class at the technical institute a little worse than at all, and it wasn't before them, the main task for most was simply not to leave the university.

“No,” says the nurse, no mistake, the result is positive. and pause. Well, in the sense – good, not sick.



Pulling out the brick from his pants, he boldly hinted to the nurse that it was not good to do so. Whether the information reached her interstitial nerve node is uncertain.

Yesterday I went to the studio, I needed to replace the lightning on the jacket. Since I don’t carry cash with me, I asked if I could send the prepaid to the card. The woman agreed and began to look for a map - broke the entire wallet, looked into her jacket, looked at the table, under the table, nowhere to find. I could not stand it and asked:

Do you have a card attached to your phone?

She cried out:

Oh of course! Totally forgotten!

I took the phone, bended the box and got a card from there.

xxx: This contrast is of course in communication with 22-year-old boys and 36-year-olds. The first would write to me at midnight, and the second would go to bed at 22:00.

Yyy: Just the phone shines in the eyes of my wife))

Time is good, and happiness is good!

Funny story from the early 1970s. My husband was sent to one of the small countries of West Africa for 3 years. Then for such a long period of time Soviet citizens were sent with families, along with my husband, I flew with a small child. The flight was quite difficult. From Moscow they flew on IL-18 to Lagos (then the capital of Nigeria) with an intermediate landing in Tripoli, and in Lagos they were transferred to a local airline aircraft.
The capital of the country in which we lived was built from the time of existence of the French colony with one- and two-storey villas, in some of them there were still ground floors. The more modern were the quarters of the houses in European style, the further they were located from the center of the city.
Soviet citizens dispatched by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs lived mostly in the embassy house on the street adjacent to the embassy. Employees of the trade office, the TASS, the consul, the counselor of the embassy, the correspondent of the newspaper "Pravda" lived in the city at different distances from the embassy. The entire Soviet colony did not exceed 50 people.
The climate in the country is equatorial, the temperature depending on the season (dry or humid) ranges from 25 to 32 degrees Celsius. You want to dress in something natural and easy. Before leaving, I bought a satin costume at Tsume: trousers (not shorts, God put it) and a shirt under the throat, shoulders covered, in front of the shirt reached the hips, but the back ended a centimeter below the shutdown of the shirt, i.e. Part of my back, horror, was naked. At the time, I was 27 years old, no folds on my back and protruding abdomen, my skin smooth. I could not offend the eyes of others because local ladies, not working with Europeans, walked topless, simply wrapping their thighs with a piece of fabric, rather brightly painted. A second piece of cloth was rolled into a burn, a ring of this cloth was placed on the head, and a enameled pelvis was wrapped on it, replacing the local sailors and a women’s bag, and plastic bags, which in those years were not widespread. But the attitude of the African women was royal.
One day, a senior official from the Old Square came to this African country with an inspection. He checked how Soviet citizens live and work so far from the borders of the Motherland. The event is not ordinary, so when visiting the places of residence, the visitor's employees were accompanied personally by the Ambassador of the Soviet Union and high-ranking diplomats. Because it was working time, only we and the baby were in the house. All the explanations to the high person was given by the Ambassador, everything in the house was okay, there were no comments. My participation in the conversation was reduced to “Hello, please pass!” and “Goodbye.”
Approximately half an hour later (the time of the commission to get to the embassy and settle in an air-conditioned room with refrigerated drinks) a roofed husband calls: "Start gathering, we are sent to Moscow at 48 o'clock, the head - an excuse." Soon the husband and head of the unit come and explain that, in the opinion of the inspector, I am unnecessarily dressed, disgrace the high rank of a Soviet man, submitted to the corrupt influence of the West, etc., etc. The expulsion meant the complete collapse of my husband's career and an indelible spot on reputation.
To the sewing products is usually attached a cardboard with indication of the details. Such a card from the shocking inspector costume I, fortunately, did not have time to throw away. And on the cardboard in addition to the article it was printed that this product was sewn by the Soviet factory in accordance with GOST, therefore recommended to Soviet women. A piece of fabric with a button was always sewn to such a cardboard, so that her belonging to the scandalous suit did not cause any doubt.
The testimony of the origin of the costume was immediately presented to the light of the eyes, to which was complacently spoken: “Go, work.”

The authorities unnoticed the introduction of an air tax: to breathe through a mask - 20 rubles, without a mask - 5000 rubles.

That was in 2001 or 2002. I served, but my poor D.D. did not allow me to exist normally. Just to exist. But it is not about that.

I arranged to work for security at CenterTelecom (there was such an organization, then it was absorbed by all of us loved Rostelecom). We “guarded” the ATS, the work is not dusty. Check passes, and after the working day expel the "earned".

Since everything related to IT has always been interesting to me, I joined up with local people. It is not necessary to tell in detail, but in order to continue the story it had to be stated.

At about 15 kilometers there was one of our branches, where there was no 24-hour guard. At night, all employees left the ATS building. But the Aitishnikovs had one hemorrhoid, which was an old server who loved to hang at night. What he was responsible for, I already forgot (or did not know), but the duty of the Aitishnikov was to explode at any time of the day and night, and come to this ATS to press "Reset". But first they had to come to us to take the keys and remove this building from the guard. After that, everything started to work, and they could continue to rest.

In my turn, they often asked me to take a taxi and go back and forth. Naturally, taxis were compensated, and there was usually a present in the form of a pair of beer or chocolate.

Since we were two at the facility, we could afford to do so in violation of duties. Sometimes I had to ride a couple of times a night.

Then somehow it all stopped. And I decided to ask the Aitishnikovs what happened. I thought the money was allocated for a new servo.

It turned out easier. They worked in that building, and at the same time they worked with the energy workers there. Something was removed on its line. After work, they decided to sit on an adult with strong alcoholic drinks. And we broke up with them. In a drunk conversation, I complained to the server.

As a result, it all went so. If the server was hanging, then our айтишники called the power station. The duty energy officer cut off the light in the entire micro-area, respectively, in the building of the ATS, the light also disappeared. After five seconds, the light was given, the server loaded safely and worked until the next hanging.