My daughter is 24 years old, pleasant and good communication.

The first meeting. I stand in a conditional place and wait for her. I see, she’s going far away, but with a woman. “Can anyone stand on the road?” I build a plan, how I will riddenly save her and immediately get a chance for a great date.

But as soon as they approached, I heard from the girl the phrase: “Hello, meet this is my mom.”

And after a short pause, this mom asks, “Well, what? Where shall we go?”



Okay, as soon as I got out of the minute stupor, I turned and left.

Praying is a very delicate activity. If you raise the tone, there is a demand. A tear is a tear.

In the distant 2009 year in May I bought the rusted (as it turned out later) astra F. In August I finally gave up the rights and started riding on it. After some time, I became a bit of a bullshit in the most literal sense – I broke up with the girl I lived with before and left nowhere. So, I lived with friends, sometimes at work, a couple of times in the car. My job was travelling. The engine in the car was overtaken for the money given by my older brother, and then I lived in principle on a gas station, which was enough for gasoline and food. There was no shortage of things or apartments. But the machine was rugged. Her exhaust system was broken. Slowly falling apart.

In the spring of 2010, it was no longer very difficult. The bank collapsed. With this sweet sound and a bench wrapped with a wire to some hook under the bottom, I found a car service where the silencers were made. "Kuli us, the Cossacks" I thought and went to the guys. Well, so, without looking at the sides, I walked, went to the reception and proclaimed trouble:
The fool is gone, do something.
The receptionist looked at me. Somehow holding a smile.
And what specifically?
Probably a swallow.
I gladly suggested, remembering that I have 200 rubles "for everything".
Go ahead, let’s see.

I pursue, I think, what a cute boxer, squeezed, posters, guys in clean... "Boys in clean" watched at this time a squeezed astra coming into the box. I looked at something with a smile. Well yes. You know when they look up, but not even offend? I was on the drum too. It is written "repair and tuning of silencers". So I went to the repair. After all, the master went out, the car was picked up. Checked the system...
Tapped with languages. (I had two hands in my hand at that time.) The Master says. In principle, it must be cooked. You say, how much and what do you evaluate yourself? I pretended to think (honestly, I saw the bottom of the car for the second time in my life. The first time I saw Gugul from his dad when he was in school.
Well, I say thoughtfully, rubles for 200 welding will pull. Probably though.
"The guys in the clean" ran a little quietly (the master is next door).
and well. Two hundred was appointed. A hundred rubles for a swing. Guys, you have to swallow.
And yes, I was cooked two hooks to the bench, hanged on rubber hooks and released. For two hundred rubles.
I joyfully paid, promised the MASTER that I would ride to them and dropped down long thinking about his smile al-la-Jokond.

Obviously, I didn’t just mention that the car was rusting. She did it day and night, infection and even on weekends. So I went to that service three times again to cook something. The master had already recognized, greeted the hand, the "children in clean" carefully cooked me a new goffra in the rust remains of my exhaust, digested after some time again from the bunk the hooks worn by welding a steel ring around it. But something did not give me peace when I remembered their sincere smiles. It came one beautiful day.

I came there again with some little “a couple of seams.” Well really. And they all run there in panic, there are no clients and a group of people stands at the only busy boxer with an important look discussing something. Well, here am I, such a rugged, beautiful man, with the innocent simplicity of a clinical idiot through the gate. I drop the car, I go out to the Master, and he meets me, with the words: "Sorry, man, today is not at all..." and then one of the group approaches us and begins to ask me what I came here and what I need. I somehow do not be embarrassed especially say, yes, say, exhausted again, we need to digest a little. He is inspired and says to the Master:
Oh Oh! Let it go, for big plans we just have to remove the welding at different angles!
This car was not in the project.
Who will understand the difference? We will pay!
And the Master is already delighted in my eyes:
Well, you guys are lucky! Go to the second box!
In my words, I said, I didn't have time to say what to do there, he just waved off, said, let's do it. I thought and added that I should "walk" for two hours and "not bother." I have to say goodbye, in two hours we just removed everything. And I... I was made all the new exhaust from the extinguisher to the bank. and free. Because he paid for the television channel that filmed the transmission of the... tuning of exhaust systems in elite cars. This service was just done. by tuning. The exhausts. the system. The elite. of cars.

That’s why I got caught up when I arrived. I was on my astro somehow not interested in what was there and how many stoi passing by. I was busy with others. And I had no questions at all that Porsche was in the neighboring boxing, and behind me in the line was a surprised uncle in Maybach. I had a problem and I solved it at the time. In other words, a deceived deceiver. Or a goof. Or something else. And not the price of iron boxes next to mine.

But, you know, I think, in principle, that’s how professionals should work. If you can help, help. With their help, I did not miss them. And I must have cooked my seams by the students, not the master. But they cooked. In my budget. “Not in the shade of the hat, go to the garage.” They could, they were free, they did.

This is a positive. Do not get sick.

Dmitry Rogozin has a Twitter.
Elon Musk has a Twitter account.
But there is one nuance...