A couple of years ago I had to work with a client who was near my alma mater. One day I left a little early and decided to walk through memorable places. He went to the dining room, dormitory, lecture halls, laboratories, and the student center. In the center of my attention was attracted by the solid advertisement of the show "Three Sisters." The poster stated that this action was organized by the "Russian Club", and events such as Rahmaninov's concert, Bardov's evening, films of the 60s, the Silver Age, thematic parties, etc.

“Good guys, organizers, they’ll go a long way,” I thought, and then I thought, “Would they know how and why it all started?” And remembered...

Lieutenant Schmidt's Children's Club

“I can account for every million I earn except for the first one.” – John Rockefeller

My family came to the United States in the early 1990s practically poor. Seven out of the four people had an astronomical sum of $220 and a few bowls with a barrel most of which were useless. I still don’t understand why we dragged into the U.S. a meat-cutter, an electrocutter, and a Polish shirt. The first few years in the new country was a bit difficult, although very fun.

My parents started working, my sister and I worked, but in the line "Total" finances sang romance. A year and a half later, my sister finished school, and what next? The parents did not even ask the question, she will go to the university, no matter how much it costs. And it cost a little, even despite grants and scholarships, especially given our then financial condition. They gave the last penny, because education is sacred.

Four years later, my sister graduated from college and it was time for me to go. With money it became a little easier, poor not to be called, but even to the middle class was very, very far away. Again, no alternatives were considered. “Let us turn.” We and our parents encouraged each other. “There will be a day, there will be food.”

As a result, I went to a decent private university, which is not even a free pleasure. In general, in the United States, university or college education is a solid bunch of money. I was really happy, I studied quite well in school, and the universe was generous and gave me a discount of almost half the amount. A quarter of the amount was borrowed by my parents, the rest was borrowed by me. In principle, everything is clear and fair, you want to save, not learn. If you want to study, pay. The road will be made by the one who goes, who needs education, he will get it, regardless of any barriers.

The difficulty was not only in the cost of education, but also in the fact that all the associated costs were also more than tangible. In private universities, the approach is simple, "where are you going from the submarine?"Therefore, the price for dormitory, food, etc. was placed just a horse. The starving studios (like me) tried to find at least some work, otherwise it would be quite acidic. The problem is that the student workforce was in excess, and therefore the pay was minimal, especially since the basis was employed by the university itself. The way out is simple, it takes a few work.

Where I have not worked. One time I was engaged in sending letters in which the university swore money. The work is not dusty, the letters in the envelopes are stuck and the marks are glued, but boring to the end. Then in the gym, the inventory was distributed, too, not dusty, but unfortunately distracted from sleep. At the same time, the library man was crumbling, also a penny in his pocket.

After finding two unique submissions, assess. The first is the official ball carrier for the women’s lacrosse team. Not work, but a story. You sit on a chair, look at the girls, a couple of times for a game from the basket you throw them a ball, and during the break around the field you will collect the balls. The second is even cooler, the movie operator for the women's basketball team. You go to different universities and shoot a game on camera. The girls are kind and responsive, feeding during trips, and paying for hours on the road too. In short, Sinekura, what else to say. One bad thing - games are not frequent enough and work is seasonal.

But the financial problem remained. No matter how you turn, do not shuffle, and you will not earn normal money. You seem to work 25-30 hours a week, and you have $ 100, many 150. The cost was very high, but I tried to save where I could. The apartment with a fellow student, Semka, was taken off the campus for a couple cheaper, for all kinds of seminars and presentations was recorded because there were sometimes fed for free, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not visible.

Sevki's situation was a bit better, his brother with business in the Russian Federation. But in the 90s it was like, then thick and then the flute and the drums sound, then it is completely empty, and then you thank God for being alive. In short, he needed money almost as much as I did, not to swear the healthy guys a penny from their parents who barely have enough. In what shit we just didn’t fit in to be golden. They traded furniture for students, they recorded as accountants for the population, they tried to sell telephone tariffs, but everything was short or unreliable. Ambition was a lot, but in fact it turned out to be a shit.

The financial anus worsened every beginning of the semester. The reason is simple, books. There was virtually no online book sales at the time (the topic was just beginning), so the university store was essentially a monopoly. They smashed seven skins from the unhappy students without the slightest indulgence. I took an average of 5-6 classes per semester and often needed two or three textbooks for each. And books and $50, and $70, and $100 could cost, so the final amount for the poor student came out monstrous. A weekly salary went away for one or two books.

Particularly oppressed some foolish professors. They announced that it was for their class that a certain textbook or taskbook was required and... they created it themselves. Then this masterpiece of the epistolar genre was delivered to the university store and the poor students were forced to buy it in the third way. There is absolutely no place to go, you cry, but you take. One thing is happy, with your money you enrich your favorite teachers. As I remember now, an unconscious geology teacher demanded $80 for his small booklet in a soft cover. The computer science teacher had more requests, almost $120.

The only one who had the conscience and understanding was our Tax Teacher, Stephen Lydka. Moreover, he said, “Books are thick, and there is no meaning in them. Everything that is really for knowledge, not for a crack, I will read to you in the lectures. Keep good accounts, and that’s 3/4 of the thing. Here is a book that I made myself. There are key concepts. It costs just $9, which is about how much I should print it. The rest of the literature, if necessary, can be taken to the library. And indeed, from this well-written, thin book I learned much more than from a dozen others.

The subject itself? It seemed, taxation is unambiguous fi, can not be more boring. Here you are wrong. Stephen’s lectures started at 8 a.m., and he himself came at 7-7:15 a.m., in case someone had questions on the subject. So, the students gathered in the classroom at 7 in the morning as a stick, only to quench him. His lectures were something with something, a charge of energy, a fireworks of humor, and a kaleidoscope of excellent life examples. This Master created an amazing atmosphere and made his subject so understandable and fascinating that students from other faculties (biologists, physicists, engineers, etc.) enrolled in it, although they absolutely did not need this subject for a diploma. I have never met anything like that before or after.

Unfortunately, the rare fuckers (sorry, there is no other word) from the university administration wasted it without rattling. The only, in my opinion, worthy professor in the whole department. Tenure (permanent position) was not given to him for his chagrin, and he went away offended. I generally think these university passions are very violet, but then I thought it was my duty to call the department and write a letter to the president of the university that from now on, instead of charity, they would only receive sex from me. Then I learned that several hundred other former students spoke in about the same tone. But I probably turned away.

At the end of each semester, the question arose, but what to do with used textbooks? If it was very lucky, then there was a picture that planned to take a class in the next semester, then the book was sold to him/her. Usually, with tears in the eyes, they drag everything back to the university store where books were accepted for about 10-15% of the price. And often they didn’t accept, they just said, “A new edition is coming out. If you want to, take it back, or this box, put it there.” Well, when the next semester came... these same textbooks that students took for money, the university laid out on the shelves as b/u for 75-80% of the price of new, and they were bought out in the air. It happened that the books that the students just gave for free the university also sold (in cases if the next edition to the beginning of the semester did not have time or the teacher allowed to use both versions, especially because they rarely seriously differed).

And this is the end of another semester, I am sadly overtaking my library, and sadly pretending how much I will be overtaken this time. Seven falls and seeing my acid look asks:
“Is it not fun? What did you hang your head?”
“Why to have fun? There are no income, only expenses. As the saying goes, “the student gives books to the university store.” The student is the subject, and the shop is the proper.”
I am also an amateur philologist. Smells of seventh. “The store is a place.”
“Another summit of philosophical thought” I hugged.

And suddenly, as a swallow, the glass was running:
“The Eureka. He who was nothing becomes everything. We will show them the mother of Kuzma, we will start a pound of distress, where the cancers winter, and why marriage is impatient."
“To whom to show? And most importantly what? I am very concerned about exhibitionism. I agree to show only in a narrow circle of limited people."
“The Gusars are silent. I announce the first meeting of shareholders of JSC "Rog and Copy" open. Our goal is to bring to the masses the reasonable, good, and eternal. In exchange for a freely convertible currency, of course.”
“The goal is good. I support all the low fibers of my soul. And now, closer to the body, as Mopassan said.”

Here Sömka and announced his congenital plan.
“Look here. You will now drag your books to Golgotha. You will get a spoonful of oil. Is the thesis fair?”
“Experience is a great thing. And he suggests that yes. I am ready to consider options.”
“What if the books... don’t give up?”
“Sema, and you are a masochist-maximalist. You offer to fly like a faner over Paris and not get a penny at all. Relax people and have fun.”
“This is exactly what I offer. Moreover, the shareholders of JSC “Rog and Copyt” immediately collect all the cash, borrow as much as they can and... direct their footsteps to the university store and begin to buy textbooks from the suffering populus at a price greater than those university crumbs.”
“Someone, did you eat a dead fish? Was the milk unclean? What kind of shit do you offer? Not only do not get money, but also give the last and collect all the shit. Note, I’m ready to bite the granite of science, but here I predict that I’ll eat paper instead of pizza, and that’s a perversion. The soul does not accept these conditions. What will we do with these books?”
“I told you that you’re a fool and your ears are cold. We will trade them.”
“Oh, we’ll open a store, or a bench, in front of the store, and we’ll call the buyers, ‘Devushek, Devushek, book buy. Look at the B. The book of Percy. What do you think of my baritone?”
“You are right and you are wrong, my friend Socrates. We really occupy the square. Actually in front of the store. We will only buy books. This is the idea of selling.” And Sömka announced the remainder of the idea "I had to sit in the touch there once..."

Diamond smoke went through our modest apartment. The idea was so simple, so genius. It is just a miracle that the gold of Klondike lying on the surface for so many years has not been picked up. With a trembling but confident hand, I took the checkbook and looked at the balance sheet.
“I feel painful things. This is all done by hard work. I am willing to do charity for the hungry. What will the merchant say?”
“I have about that. I think our capital will be enough to produce a furor in science and technology.”
“The fuck. With a naked hero on the overwhelming, they attacked the devil. But is it fair? Desperate times require desperate action.”

The next morning, having put together our modest capital, borrowed a foldable table and a couple of chairs from the neighbors, we settled at the outside entrance to the store. From the hand swept the advertisement, said we buy textbooks at a high price. What price to offer for which book we had no idea, we had to periodically run inside and find out what textbooks the store accepts. Then we dressed up for $5-7 dollars. For books that the university did not give money at all, we gave $ 3-5, depending on the condition and thickness of the book.

At first it was quiet, but very soon when we learned that we were paying more, we were besieged by a crowd of students. The unfortunate table was bended by the weight of the books. Then they started putting them under the table in boxes. Then they put the books on the asphalt. Soon the indignant shop workers jumped out to us with complaints, saying what fucking thing? What is self-activity? What is the monopoly attempt?

In response, we reasonably stated that there was no harm from us. We just want to buy books from our fellow intellectuals. Where is it stated that this is prohibited?
“Huligans are deprived of sight.” Oral of Seven.
“Well, put Lypkin-Typkin here.” I seconded sharply.
“I will complain to the prosecutor,” Sam cried out.
“Can we send them simply to her, with all the proletarian directness?” I have proposed.

The next day we repeated the concert, and on the third we finished the money. As a result, we found several hundred textbooks on all subjects, from ancient philosophy to higher mathematics, from chemistry to quantum mechanics. It was 50 meters from our desk to the parking lot, not more, but we pulled our hands off quite a bit. The poor submarine of Semki even wandered from the loaded foilings. And when I remember dragging this good from the car to us into the apartment on the 3rd floor I get bad, although almost 20 years have passed since then. But now we were ready for the battle of the Titans.

As respected readers probably guessed we were not going to sell these books in retail sitting on the bench or banally disclosing ads. The buyer had planned only one...SAM university store. How to check such a hashtag? Here I will explain.

The fact is that when the semester began, the first couple of weeks of general status at the university could be described as "Romashka's bad." Students enroll in classes and very often then change them (for various reasons). Thus, the books already purchased must be handed over to them and purchased new ones. All you need for this is a simple form that is issued in the registration center. It was filled out by hand, indicating which class was cancelled, which one was taken in return, and the employee of the center (often the same brother-student working for the hour and who was absolutely offended) put either a stamp or a signature.

After crushing and building the eyes of the student girls, we became the owners of a whole pack of empty forms. We filled out the forms, indicated that we were changing the schedule and went to the store with textbooks.
“I want to surrender. I take another class.” I stated firmly. “Give money into working hands.”
“Let me see,” the employee whispered. “Did you take the credit card? Or the university account?
“For Nail, of course.” I assured me.
“Do you have a check?” The shoppers resisted.
What kind of check? I did not save, I lost. But these are the books, the same you have on the shelf. No more to take them from anywhere. And according to the rules, we can take them out for the first 2 weeks without any problems."
This resistance usually stopped and for the books that we bought (or even received for free) for pennies received a retail price from the store. And here there has already appeared a whole pad with a bright blue catch.

In the university store we appeared almost three times a day, because we needed time to sell as many books as possible. After a few days, our faces were so blurred that the sellers greeted us like relatives. Naturally, they understood everything and resisted by inertia, but they “had no methods against the Bone of Saprikin” because we did not violate any rules. And so every trip to the store brought us hundreds of dollars. Of course, we did not have time to deliver all the books, some of which the store refused to accept because these textbooks were no longer used, but 80 percent of the inventory we loaded.

Profit on investment exceeded all the most optimistic forecasts and climbed well below 600%. We finally felt like people. There was worthy money in the pocket. I did not quit working, but I was no longer forced to save every penny. Moreover, I even partially paid off my school debt and allowed myself some surpluses. Well, of course, Sevka and I were looking forward to the start of the next semester to repeat our arias on bis.

Unfortunately, the concert did not succeed on the request of the viewers. More precisely, books then we bought, and in a much larger quantity than before. But the clever university merchants have circled us by the curve. According to the new rules, it was necessary to indicate the number of the student ticket and show the identification card when handing over the books. Moreover, an official schedule had to be presented before and after the replacement.

We stumbled like rattled deer, changing schedule several times a day, but running to the registration center and back took a lot of time. Plus, we were so confused that we were foolishly pushed out of the store and from the center, barely able to register for real classes. The issue had to be resolved and urgently, because there was quite decent money on the counter.

“And Eureka again,” announced Sam. “We are alone, that is our weakness. But abroad will help. There are ideas.”
“Please publish the entire list.”
"We must shout out, and organize ideological fighters for the dungeons. It is not worth counting on the help of the Aborigines. Their Protestant ethics and Buddhist order of things will not allow them to participate in our hashtag. I need another like that. And more simply, we need Lieutenant Schmidt’s children.”

Of course, Russian-language students at the university were before us, but very rarely. Per only in the year of our arrival slowly and the conquest of Siberia by Jermak began. If in our year enrolled a person 6 "Russian", then to the third course in the university was at least a person 25.

“Let’s call those we know. At the same time, ask them to bring those they know. Well, the announcement in the student center will be hanged, it is said that the "Russian Club" is formed. Do you want to break bread with us?”
“And then what? “Are you not afraid to announce Noah?”
“What are they afraid of? This is my last semester.” He completed the universe in 3 years. "You still have one semester after that, your wages will be enough for your age. And his brother emigrant will save himself and help us. This is our donation to the “Union of Sword and Oral.”

said and done. Someone who could have noticed the advertisement. We organized a council in Files, more precisely on the benches near the library. There may be 15-18 people. A speech pushed from which stones would slip.
Dear brothers and sisters, Kents and Mochals, Aids and Goyim, Chuvaks and Chuvichs. How long will the puppy of capital suck the last juices out of the hegemon, collecting an immeasurable tribute in the form of payment for textbooks? There is a chance to restore historical justice and make money for everyone. The scheme is as simple as two fingers, then you hit the goods. Our product, your time. income is guaranteed. At the breakdown, an honest boy half. Whoever agrees, write down your coordinates on this sheet. Who wants to think, no problem. Just don’t pull the cat for a long time, because the time we have is very little, it’s money that we can make together.”

The insightful speech found a response and almost everyone agreed. All that was required from the neophytes, a couple of times to change their schedule, show forms together with their identification cards, and hand over their share of books. It was calculated after each given game. The goods were rid of literally in a couple of days for general benefit. Of course our earnings were less than planned, but even with this arrangement we still earned very decent.

As a knowledgeable of human souls, Semka proposed to cover a modest lawn, the benefit of the profit from the enterprise was decent. A few pizzas, chicken wings, beer, and anecdotes are the best foundation for the unification of the proletariat. Everybody liked it, the more so. A couple of times in a semester we met with a fun company, and there the year ended.

Before graduating from university, Samka tells me;
“You see, we have already organized the people. People are like Pavlov's dogs, used to the hole. You can lead them to a bright future. I am late in the leader, I am going to the master's degree, and you with our group of comrades can break a good bowl."
“From now on in more detail.” I was interested.
“Yes very simple. On the next drink, I will nominate you for the President of the Russian Club. As usual, the people are silent. I am sure everyone will support. Moreover, we have suited them for the following semesters. You register all as the "Russian Club" at the university officially, because there are enough people. And then handy hands and no fraud, demand a budget. I learned that the university is generously giving student organizations money. You will be filled and drunk, and the boys will lose a penny.”

The idea of the official "Russian Club" was all accepted "on hurra." The shooting was calculated as by notes, of course, no one objected to my presidency.

Well, the next semester (my last in the university) we already met in full arms, with a bunch of textbooks that we organized. At the same time I made a presentation in the administration, the club was officially registered. Per it helped that we subdued the entire Russian language faculty to lobbyism for us. I even managed a budget of a couple of thousands of dollars, say we will visit museums, get rich culturally, and even organize some public event. One shit, the budget only for the next semester was given, my share was not enough.

I don’t regret it, I earned enough money from books. In the following semester, Lieutenant Schmidt’s Children’s Club lived a full life. With the first money organized a big walk in a Russian restaurant. Even the wise will report for it as "studying Russian cuisine." For a couple of years, as the first official President of the Russian Club, I was invited to all kinds of meetings, even to my home several times all the eagle came to visit. Then they slowly stopped, the more I myself to this matter with work and my travels cooled.

Well, now you can see the Russian Club rigorous guys run. Everything is white, puffy, clean and cultural. It is probably right. And yet, they would know how and why it all started...