I went to my friend in the evening, he lives in his house. They sat down, drank a cup, and when the wives went away to communicate in the room, he stood up and said briefly:
Go to.
We came to the sarai, which stands in his yard. On the right were flooded fresh berry wood, and on the left were shelves with various crafts and supplies that could feed a small African village. The comrade approached the shelf, on which there was a battery of large and medium-sized bottles, grandly nodded at them and solemnly said:
The apple cider!
You are what! I was surprised and looked better. Inside the bottles was some mysterious muddy substance, and closer to the bottom was a thick layer of precipitation.
“Real, carbonated,” he confirmed, “he pressed himself, there are only apples and sugar seven kilos.
Then he removed one of the bottles from the shelf, with the label of lemonade "Ah!“He handed me carefully with the words “don’t thank me.”
I sneezed and did not thank, between close friends it was unnecessary. And to give half a cup of real carbon cider, as you understand, you can only a close friend.
At home, I realized that I don’t know exactly what apple cider is drinking from. Having delivered the high glasses for the chance, I opened the bottle, and an exciting apple smell spread through the dining room. The cider by this time has already completely swallowed and acquired a flat dark brown color. The wife, suspected of smelling the bubbling fluid, refused to try it and went to bed.
From the first swallow, I understood what the expression taste is known since childhood. Specifically, from early youth. Immediately remembered poker and "thousands" behind the garages, and the papyrus "Prim" and the three-liter bank around the circle, when on a daring question of what to eat, all the chorus of warts - so, out, on the wall the cock hangs! And after a painful morning sickness, terrible vomiting in the toilet and an unpleasant conversation with parents.
In general, the journey in time went so well that after the first glass, I suddenly poured out the second and, having plunged with it for another half an hour, went to bed.
But, unfortunately, this is not the end of the story, because life has always been richer.
On the night of the change in the coffee shop, where she served in the holidays, the daughter returned. Usually, when she works until late, we leave her something on the table, a piece of melon, a banana, or some bulk.
This time on the table she found half a bottle of lemonade “Ah!“”
Not thinking for a long time, she also poured out a cup and, shouting, drank a ball.
I woke up from the sound of the TV, which spoke at full volume. The daughter sat in the dining room on the couch and smiled:
“And my second tattoo,” she proudly, “was photographed yesterday by three.
After which she whispered drunk and, throwing herself on the couch, instantly fell asleep in the posture of a Vitruvian man.
Having realized that the irreparable happened, I poured another half glass of pseudo-limonade and after drinking a spoon, I went to bed again.
The fighting began in the morning.
How could you drink this baby? The wife asked angrily. - You understand that you are an alcoholic, and socially dangerous, you are also attracting your daughter!
I was silent like an Indian prisoner.
“It’s true,” confirmed the daughter sadly, “it pulls in. I even thought before that at the airport each passenger flight is called separately.
Why is? I badly asked.
“Because you’re always hanging in the cafe until the last time our name is announced!
Half an hour later, after reading a lot of notes and giving me a bunch of impossible tasks, they finally went somewhere. Half an hour later, a friend called:
So, has the Siddhartha tried it?
“I tried,” I breathed out, “only that, of course, is not a cider.
And why, he worried, seven kilos of sugar.
“It’s not a sidr,” I repeated again, “it’s... you at least got Calvados. Remark was such a drink.
The Remark? - He was delighted, - you know, and you go to me right now, I also have a bourbon! I did myself too...
I breathed again, but when I thought about it, I began to dress. Eat a real bourbon. Especially because in the event of new domestic violence, I can always escape from home and become a sailor.