A colleague has a root, his one-coach, with whom I have been booing for 10 years with a colleague at DR. They did not cross elsewhere. According to his passport, he is Oleg, but his friends call him the Borderman. A man is like a man, slightly dry in bodies, slightly brutal in communication. So it turned out that the last time we were only two smokers, the rest - who quit, who did not come, and here, we went to smoke together. At the fourth or fifth smoke, when the socio-political topics exhausted, went on to personal, the good 300 grams in the stomach contributed... I was for some reason 100% sure that he was a border guard, at least the former, once the clique was such... well, I started:

Are you still serving?

In the sense?

Are you not in the army?

- No-ye-ye, thief three times... I work in advertising... and not at all suitable for construction...

“Hmm, I thought you’re called the Borderman... so you at least ran on the border.

- Yes, no. It is my roof in the universe came off from the schoolroom. so I was diagnosed - border psychiatric disorders.