Taste of Taste of Taste of Taste of Taste 3. Walking around the hall and reflecting, I stopped at unfiltered beer and smoked fish. Pregnantly enjoying, in 10 minutes I was sitting at home at the table and, having made a large bowl of beer, printed the package with smoked osetrine. In the same moment, a terrible odor spread throughout the apartment.
My family quickly gathered together. After a short but emotional discussion, the decision was made to immediately take the fish to the last path. Here it is necessary to explain - the house in which I live, built in 1903, the garbage pipeline is not provided.
Therefore, the procedure for bringing out prematurely dead fish is not as trivial as it may seem at first glance. I did not decide to leave a stinking gift on the staircase, considering it inhumane towards the neighbors. I had to dress up and thoughtfully drag to the garbage container in the yard. No need to describe my emotions at this moment. It seemed to me that I buried not only fish, with fish smelled and died insurance, smelled medical and transport services, in the garbage container decomposed trade services, and in our old courtyard with a bunch of dog cockroaches quietly lay the utility and the cleaning of the Moscow streets... Already taking my hand to stunnedly throw a package with the lost fish into the box, I suddenly noticed that next to the unfortunate caterpillar a commodity check from the Taste Book. The decision matured instantly – now I will walk 300 meters to the store and tell them everything I think. As it was, in my workout pants, pants and a jacket on my shoulders, I went to the store still boiling out of anger. The question is, “Where is the manager?” There was a beautiful girl in uniform. She led me into the office room, knocked on the door with a sign "managing Vagin B. A.” When I opened the door, she dropped me into the office. I walked boldly inside, speaking in my mind the text that I was going to say now, not being embarrassed in the expressions and... stumbled, astonished by the man sitting at a huge table. Nature did not pay off, creating the Vagina V.A. A two-meter-long versila with a bull’s neck, pudded fists and a neanderthal’s ruby face looked at me with curiosity with tiny eyes. Add a costume to this image.
Armani, gold Rolex on the wrist and you will understand that I immediately wanted to scandalize. I silently handed him a bag of fish. Vagin V. A. stunned, the smell clearly did not fit in his office. Looking slightly at the check, he nodded to the chair and suddenly said in a loud voice, "Don't worry, it's a misunderstanding, we'll fix it now." After that, he pressed the selector button and calmly said, "Haitova to me." A few minutes later, they knocked on the office. A fat man of "Caucasian nationality" entered and knocked in the door. Vagin V. A. looked at him silently for a while. Haitov was obviously uncomfortable, he was sweating, beating, shooting my side with his eyes, sneezing his nose, and in the rest behaved modestly. Then Vagin V. A. asked quietly:
“I told you, shit, when did I tell you to write off?” "After yesterday, Val Sanych" - the Haitian runner-up was thick red. On the badly shaved cheeks dropped drops of sweat. “And this is what?” Asked Vagin V. A., knocking on the bag lying on the table. Haiti was obviously shaken and spotted something unreasonable about the reassortment, apparently already realizing what was going to follow.
Vagin V.A. dropped in the chair, crossed his hands on his chest, like in the cinema, and calmly, without emotions, but strictly, said: "Gry, shit."
The action that followed reminded me of a horror film – the unfortunate haitian whore, crying, smashing on the face of tears and sores, pressed with stinking fish, swallowed convulsively, assuring with full mouth that never again in life, mirrored, overcoming the vomiting reflex and again ate, swallowed and pressed. Finally the fish ended. Vagin V.A. turned to me and asked with a smile, "Are you satisfied, or to force him and the pack to eat? The money will be returned to the box.” He nodded his head, telling me that the show was over. I stood up, thoughtfully pulled out my hand, got 400 rubles in the box and went home thinking about an exceptionally effective quality management policy in the stores of the Taste Azbuka network.