It is said that greed is the second happiness, and fools are always lucky.
In general, the case was in 2001. In my hometown, shooting in the streets from grenades then ceased to be fashionable - but serious guys in sports trousers were still riding beeches (which nobody had thought of calling "boomers"). And I was a young green fool who worked in a small computer company. The clients were different, not everyone confessed the principle of "duty - a matter of honor". But somehow they managed to negotiate with them without bringing them to extremes.
These are some inconsistent ones. They don’t want to pay for the work they do – and that’s all. They cheer with their roughness, participation in a single “social-political union”. In other words, natural...
I just decided to resign and move to the capital. And here the boss, when I came to him for a calculation, just said:
Their client? The Thy. Do they owe us? A hundred pounds. So go and pay off the debt as you want. If you bring a baby, I’ll pay you as much as I need, but I’m not sorry.
I looked at myself in the mirror... The ugly glasses-botan. The costume is cheap, with a collar colorful in the fashion of the time. Who is not afraid of me and will take it seriously? But nothing to do... I sat down in my broken box and went to the debtor’s office. And they lived on the outskirts, next to the factories. I come, go to the reception to the main, I am interested in the subject of his presence. Not there, they say. Okay, I’ll answer, I’ll wait for him on the street, in the car.
I go out and I realize I don’t even know how he looks. Only the name was given to me. But to come back, to ask, is inappropriate somehow. He went to his coffin. I sit and wait. An hour, two or three. In order not to miss - I picked up the book, read it, and periodically look at the booklet - a photo of my beautiful girlfriend.
The car was placed in front of the entrance to the building. My calculation - as a cool limousine approaches - so I'll go straight to him and approach. No one, except the director of theirs in such transport can move.
Until the evening, no limousines arrived. In general, somehow empty on the parking lot, and no one enters or exits the building. Only the curtain at the reception window sometimes rolls.
At 8 o’clock it was dark, so I think there’s no point in waiting. The area is not the most quiet again - I have nothing to do here at night. I went home without bread.
The next day is exactly the same. He came - asked - was sent - went into the car - sat down until evening. There is still silence, only the birds whisper.
And on the third day, in the morning, our boss caught me. brought to the office. The envelope is dirty. I re-calculated, there was, besides what I expected, a bigger sum. I raise my eyes at him with a silent question.
They paid, he said. The money fell on the account today.
“And yet,” he says, “their chief called me on the trumpet early in the morning: “You didn’t understand us that way, we don’t want war. We don’t need to send a wheelchair.”
The Waltz is a killer, if anyone did not know.
"I immediately painted it: a scratch in the glasses, under the student cuts. The car is clearly stolen, sits, pretends to read the book - and passes the entrance, and with the photo is checked. The nerves, of course, have ropes: it looks so beautiful, does not hide, does not fear that it will be removed. Mother of the Beast, short.
I took the envelope, pulled the boss's hand - and went to the first seat with my wife.

And what of the story above, and what was - you decide for yourself.