Bananas in the USSR

The year is about 1980. And communism has already won, or is about to win.
I come out of school and write:
“The smoke! I went with the banana. It is 1278. Lunch at the table. Singing and singing in the shade! Pope”
On that day, my father went to the second shift. I, in my echo, keep a note of my mother, who was in the first shift, and I will go to stand.
I put 1 kg in my hand. And then my father was released from the robbery. For the ordinary reason that we could buy extra kilograms of banana.
The torso ticks painfully slowly. by 19:30. Through the shell they shut up. The “Majake” sounds like a trivial musician.

People start to worry, everyone understands that tomorrow, at the opening, there will be no bananas for sale. Everything will go by its own way, by the mud. The requirement is naturally formulated:
Work until the last banana!

An initiative group is formed to present an ultimatum to the Directorate of the Trade Center. The Directorate responds approximately as follows:
Fuck you comrades Hegemon!

Here it should be noted that a strike of bus drivers took place a few days earlier in Togliatti, which was by all sorts of BBC, "Free Europe" and other "voices". Gorky got the first number.

Such here. The row is worried once, the row is worried two... The calls to defeat the shopping center "to her mother" begin to spread. It is not 20 minutes as the representatives of the party committee come. After evaluating the situation, they give an indication fully consistent with the demands of the crowd and me, in particular:
Trade until the last banana.

We were “wrapped” around midnight. Mom, Dad, I’m three pounds. Three kilograms of wood fluorescent green bananas. Here it should be noted that my parents bought bananas for the second time in their lives, so they were experienced, in terms of bananas, consumers. We rolled these green strands into rolls and put them on the closet - "to reach", i.e. to mature. A few days passed there. And, miraculously, my parents got me yellow, soft, tasty bananas from my closet!

And here I, a twelve-year-old boy, go out with a deficient banana in my hand and a smile wide over my shoulders.
A neighbor, a 35 year old aunt.
Smoke, what are you eating?
Aunt of Light, this is a banana. We stood in line together.
They are green and wooden.
They were immature. Like tomatoes, they also come to the closet.
Aunt of Light said. - And we stood in a row for eight hours, at the hour of the night came home, tried: a tree and in the mouth hangs. They decided not to eat raw bananas and cooked them. A cluster succeeded. Everything went to the toilet.
And they are what they are!! Smoke, let me try it.

I gave her a banana. She leaned, carefully took the tip into her mouth, bite it off... and whispered, turning her face:
to melt! What a fool, but who knew?

A 35-year-old woman saw a banana for the first time. and c)