I came here to dig potatoes. Having loaded the last bag in the bag, my wife and I went to the bus stop. There are local ones. They noticed us, they fit. Well there. There are sighs like this, the classic is shorter. Fighting with them is reluctant. Well, I’m like Gordon going down the elevator to their level and say, “Brother, you’re that, you mark yourself for the beginning, you’re who you are at all? I am Viti Kalina, and who are you?” (The wife’s name is Kalinina)) A man with respect “aaah, heard, heard, sorry brother.” My wife now calls me that.