I sat with a girlfriend yesterday. Sitting well. Meanwhile, she told me how she flew to Jamaica for the past New Year.

Starting with the fact that when transferred to Cuba, she was late on a local plane. Next in 4 days. The money in the wallet (she does not take a lot with her) is 100 backs less than you need to buy a ticket for the next plane. The tour agent said, “Moment! I will arrange everything!” He did not take the phone anymore.
For a day, she sat in the port waiting for the travel agent's body movements, drinking water from the fountain for the purposes of the brutal savings.
The next day, a local aunt came to her about what she was doing here. Rita does not speak Spanish or English, but is very emotional in life (a first-class realtor who will sell anything to anyone). Within two minutes, the aunt walked with her hands and walked around the whole port. Within a minute, around a hundred people waved their hands and wept over the whole district.
She was thrown these 100 pounds in little and almost broken into pieces, dragging each to his side for the purpose of living with them to the plane.
The victory was won by a little old woman of the 60s, who kicked out the screams of young and healthy.
I hated her terribly! She lived with the old lady, but in the morning she was pulled out of the house by a crowd of Aborigines, who dragged her through all the tourist and not tourist places, but crops and gave such impressions that no travel agency dreamed of. He taught the evil and criminally punishable.

On the evening of the fourth day in Jamaica, the girl went to a bar in order to eat death and finally relax. The previous Russians were seen in that hotel in 1965. Almost forgotten. It will not be forgotten soon.
In the middle of the bar card, the bartenders began to bet on the item when it would fall from the table. The avocado!
She called to Moscow to complain to a friend, which she was advised to squeeze vodka. She snorted and walked hard into the room.
On the way to the beach won some competition arranged by animators.
In the morning, the whole hotel shouted, “Margarita! Rush the champion! Cam is!
“He is Cam!” From the whole competition, she only remembered how she kissed the animator in a bald manicure :) A day later, she taught the locals to chew cabbage.
A Canadian man clung to her in a bar, why she is Russian and doesn’t drink vodka.
He received a response on the topic of the absence of the correct Russian snack - cold and fermented cabbage. In the absence of the girl's vocabulary of the word "fermented" the Canadian got the variant of "salted cabbage" and scourged the wheat.
He said to me, “Happiness! You will know everything!”
Our girlfriend came to the boss and asked, “Ick! Where do you store the foods?”
She was kicked by the hand, and she went to Azimut. Attempts to stop the movement of success did not take, the cook maximum that got, so this permission to accompany.
The procession, loaded with chopsticks, carrots, plates, salt, sugar and teasacks, arrived at the bar to prepare the “right Russian snack.” The boys were shown how to shink the cabbage and carrots. A understandable young man was sent to a sandy beach to look for a stone for oppression (found).
Ritta embroiled all this matter, mixed, transmitted, rolled into a pot, wrapped a cloth-board-stone from above, and, bending up, saw a picture: along the walls of the bar, tables were moved, on which glasses for drinking were built with a chain. A bartender runs along the tables, pouring vodka into the glasses for a “right Russian snack.” There are 200 people waiting at the table.
The girl stood upright, with dignity ripped off the remains of the cabbage from her hands and said:
Well here! In three days it will be ready.