The summer. The Red Press. The Zoo. People wishing to earn on the photo of the monkey-piton-sova-orl-iguana-plush mutant are more than on Sochi beaches.
People running from the metro to the subway or (as we do with the younger ones) to the pool at the Zoo and not willing to make "unforgettable pictures", neither to pass nor to pass. It is deadly. Half a step, climbing in a slowly wandering crowd like colorful penguins, licking afterwards, walk past pony and monkeys.
Suddenly, through the "pingvin flow", from the road, a healthy man of such a serious appearance runs through and turns the keys from a Toyota into a photographer with a monkey in an orange suitcase.

The Brother! You hear me brother! The day I look at you, you won’t earn that.
Change your clothes! You are not a Krishna, you are not a prisoner of Guantanamo. Who will fool with her?