The chain is broken on the big. The instinct of the Soviet times suggested - well, fucking do you do this. Walk on foot to Sokolniki. They repair there. The metro is not allowed in the hour of peak. They will do right. Where do I go with the big guy in the full car?

He - objected to me an adult uncle of the era of capitalism - 50 minutes to walk to Sokolnikov? Moscow is the capital of services. 15 million heads do not produce any shit, but any of your cravings or needs will be satisfied at the nearest corner according to the full program. Googl, I say, repair the bicycles. Immediately the map became clear - to figure out how many points are ready to help me in the area of disaster. All right under the side. Fuck those puppets.

I call the nearest, min 5 walk - long hips. When I called, he came. This office is covered.

I call the next one, before her min 10 to the other side. There is some sort of azzki chicken in response to all three attempts. Well, her fool, I will not go.

Other closest places marked by Google, where I am ready to help with the repair is big, just astonished - there was a repair of the clock, and electrical equipment, and even a cozy cafe.

Finally, I found a point clearly more ambassador - I will conditionally call it "Velorai". A network across the country, 800th number, and only 15 minutes walk. I begin to move in this direction, at the same time I try to call through all these "we will solve any of your problems", "if you need something, press 7" in a few iterations, and of course the final "Unfortunately, all our operators are now busy, but..." I almost reached the specified place by Google, when I really answered a live operator. He explained that their nearest office in Moscow was moved to Pjotnicka, that is, much further from Sokolnikov.

Another attempt is athlete. An even larger network of stores with all kinds of sports equipment, including large. Through the same ass of abundant options, I finally reach the live operator. He replies that he has no idea if they are doing the replacement of the chain at the closest point to me, but at least gave her the phone. I call you, they do! Master in place.

I went up to the third floor...b...!!! The master has lunch. Or he dines, the hell knows it, it is the seventh hour of the evening. There will be min in 15 days. I leave big, I walk for half an hour. I return with the naive confidence that the chain has been replaced and I can finally go home.

and UGU. The master did not start. He was waiting for me to find out that I could afford to set up a firm chain of their store for 350 rubles. He gave off, mentally pronouncing a rather elaborate insult. Another 15 minutes walk.

I go back, the master failed. Their store, it turns out, supports a series of standard components, for which my great turned out to be an enemy. That is, chains there even a shit eat, but none of them fit my great.

To be honest, at this point, I had an intense desire to just go out on the highway and whisper any moving object that could accommodate my dandelion. to the sockets. Ride 15 mins, taking into account the traffic jams. Taking his hand as a victim? Did Sasha go on the highway and suck the dry? Oh well naked. This is the long-lasting era of wild capitalism, the 90s. In our time, comfortable services have definitely been formed.

I settled in a cozy restaurant, ordered a beer, and started to call in familiar taxi companies. With every thousand cars, they arrive quickly anywhere. Unfortunately, none of these cars had attachments for a large on the roof, or enough space in the luggage compartment, or in the cabin.

Includes the freight transportation. On a bunch of advertising shields, I remember Truzovichkoff and Gazelkin. The truck is more ambassador. I click their first link in Google and get on...Gazelkin! These strawberries made such a reference to themselves on the plane. Fuck them. Even if they get fucked in this, they get fucked in the service. I found the truck website. He is delightful.

From 49 rubles. Challenge in 15 minutes. Contact officer 24 hours. Shut up!

What could be easier than transporting 15 kg of my bicycle for 3 km? “From 49 rubles” is just my case. Another minute 10 - called the live operator and found out that the service for me personally will cost 1290 rubles. To justify this price, the girl relied on the fact that the gazelle allocated to me was able to carry as much as one and a half tons. Being already aware that my big weighs 15 kg. I am funny to imagine that this company takes to transport for the promised 49 rubles. Destroy a mouse for 1 meter.

As a result, I started to think better about these scammers from Gazelkin. He also made a control call. Compare the prices. The company, of course, is not so cool, guaranteeing delivery of the truck in 20 minutes. But the 5 minute difference didn’t bother me. And in vain. The operator Gazelkina after endless expectations "all operators are busy" gave me a price in 1590 rubles. Arrival in 30 minutes.

And the truckchief promises to do the same for 1290 and in 15 minutes - I noticed, I'll probably order from them.

The operator reacted lightning. Unclear but pleasant. Type, "Congratulations, in this time zone for you now is a special offer, super discount, 1090 rubles!"

I easily agreed. By that time I was well. I drank a beer in the fresh air, on the veranda of a good restaurant, with a pot of flowers on the table and a magnificent view of the half-naked students passing by from the heat of the famous university. I didn’t mind that the truck was a little late.

But not to the same extent! I thought when the promised half-hour and beer had long since expired. Ura, a phone call from Gazelkin: "and the driver has not called you yet?" Forget, they are not aware. Another five minutes later: "Unfortunately, the driver is stuck in a traffic jams indefinitely."

I realized that the peak hour in the subway has long passed. He went there, explained the situation to the conductor - the gazelkin devil knows when he will arrive, and the masters in the Sokolnikovs will soon leave. My aunt got there, let go.

Called the driver, canceled the order due to his 20 minute delay with unknown time of arrival. Upon leaving the subway, he found 11 missed calls from the gazelin. Then three independent ladies had long been trying to find out why I refused the service, all three were clearly unaware of my call to the driver and the existence of two others.

I reached the master almost at the last minute. Total time is 2 hours 40 minutes. Delivered to the site by the Soviet subway, despite the abundance of other options. The slide in me just admired: “Damn, did you look at your smartphone at all? I would walk right away to Sokolniki, in 50 minutes would get there."