The case was in the 90s. I return home from school (primary classes, I was nine years old) and at the door of the apartment a 16-year-old Roma knocks on all doors on the floor. Well, without a back-thinking, I opened my key, and he stood by me. Give, he says, eat a little, or money. Well, I refuse him, I go into the apartment and try to close the door behind me, but he puts his foot in the hole and insists on giving at least something. After my next refusal, he tells me that I should give him water to drink. As I go to the kitchen to collect water, the Gypsy instantly slides into the apartment, runs into the room and through the noise, it is heard that he begins to throw items from the shelves, probably trying to find something valuable. And then the action begins, because a daddy, obviously evil, comes out of the toilet and enters the room. I immediately ran into the room and then the painting with oil: the Gypsies are trying to justify themselves, but the father is clearly wondering what to do. He catches a little Gypsies for barges, like a bag of pears, and quickly headed to the balcony door, with a squeeze, sprinkled him through the open balcony door and walked out to the street, not even looking where he fell. The first floor was well, and under the balcony was grass. But the bat had such an appearance that even if the floor was ninth, it would operate exactly the same scheme. In short, the Gypsies still got, but not exactly what they expected. There were no clashes afterwards and there were no Gypsies. This lesson I remembered for a lifetime, because I knew that if there was no one at home, everything would not be known how it ended. Do not open the door to others and do not allow anyone to enter the apartment, no matter who they are and what they ask.