In the last warm days, I was sitting on the terrace in a cafe in the Republic. And next to it stood a couple - a young girl, looking eighteen years old or older (I don't understand them anymore) in such a bright avant-garde suit. And her nails are all different, and on her eyelids are strays. Her knight is significantly older, but also stylish, fashionably dressed.
In the appearance of the truth some cloudy, sitting, bubbling her something boring, and she smoothed him on the hand:
Okay, stop, you’ll meet again, don’t be upset.
This is a classic stage of separation. And in something, in my opinion, even natural - there is nothing to mess with young people.
There are two boys passing by, probably twenty years old (and I don’t understand them anymore).
And suddenly one of them dies in front of the neighboring table, looks at the girl, her boyfriend and jealously cries:
and ah!! to
He turns and sneezes running somewhere, the other guy behind him.
The fashion man at the next table only opened his mouth, and the girl was calm:
- Yes, this is Ruslan, I told you yesterday, - she takes the phone, then changes her mind and just masches her hand, - okay, I'll call later...
Then he turns to his satellite:
“You see, Dad, how young you look at me, I say you’re going to get married again.

In short, I understand nothing anymore.