There are girls in Russian villages.
When I was a postgraduate student and according to the regulations was obliged to conduct classes with students, in one of the groups in the second grade was a nice girl c unusual for our places named Praskovy. The girl was modest, separated from the rest of the group, without emotions attributed to the fact that her fellow groups irritated her “parash”, mocked on the topic of the mole on the nose and the absence of a kilogram of cosmetics on the face, joked over a self-made leather backpack instead of a major women’s bag.
“Dolce and Gabana.” And I, though almost twice the age, immediately made friends with her. Not in the sense that everyone might have thought of now.
Although, I regret, it was also, the men will understand. In other words, we came together by interest. Under my leadership in a week mastered Basic, a little later
Si, Assembler, practically mastered itself on the Internet.
Radio-controlled aircraft models were made and launched together. We walked along the Volga on the katamaran together. As she herself said, she was the first person who decided to go to Moscow from their Zuaral village to get a higher education.
But this episode shocked me. In the fan of the installation with which I worked, one part was worn out, it was necessary to make a new one. “Drawed” a drawing, went to the workshop for a tribute to the freezer. I could make myself, I know how to work on such machines, but the master will never give his tool into other hands. I don’t give my tools to anyone. The master looked at the drawing, said, “Figure of things,” and so I didn’t.
“Stand over his soul” during work, gave money and asked to run for half a litre of cheap vodka.
In cheap vodka I am not a specialist, if we are going to take something tested in a normal store. I bought the cheapest one in the nearest tent. I brought it to the master who at that time had already made the necessary detail for me. The freezer, seeing the bottle brought by me, burst into a matte on the subject: “which x... you bought this shrimp? You will be in contact with the toilet for a long time. I’m not going to sit here whole day. I’ll put that bottle in your ass. »
Praška was sitting behind the fence, playing with the workers in a domino. Hearing the sounds of the beginning of the conflict, she stood up, approached us, asked what was going on.
I asked for a good vodka, and he brought me this butterfly!
I: - Petrovich, you said cheap, I bought it. You did not give me money for good.
Pope: Give it here. [he pulled out a bottle from Petrovich, whispered, looked, opened, smelled] Okay, understand... we’ll fix it now.
He throws a bottle to the table where the workers drink tea. He gets a couple of cubes of refined sugar from the box, presses them, throws sugar into vodka, wraps the block back. Then this fragile creature turns into Darth Vader from Star Wars, tied his red cushions behind his back, dressed in an oily working coat, gloves and a protective mask that is obviously not in her size. He swirls the throat of a bottle with a speck and, without the demand of a flushing taper, clamps the bottle in the backyard of the taper.
Through blatant manipulations of the controls, unnecessary cuts for this process are removed and the required speed of rotation is set - 1500.
Men threw dominoes, came to see, and Praška explains: if more
The bottle will break, less - the effect will not be achieved. He catches for four minutes, stops the machine, gets a bottle, puts it on the machine. After a minute on the bottom of the bottle precipitation of an unpleasant brown color. The girl opens, smells, a few drops on her palm, licking.
Everything can be drunk. Just pass through the cloth first. and you,
Siroh, learn how to do it, or better not take that shit any more if you do it.
You don’t want to strike people. Probably in the neighboring basement.
Water supply is cultivated and sold in this tent. Let’s take
Go to the department, go to the computer.
P.S It disappeared as suddenly as it appeared. From her little homeland came the news that her father died, left a sick mother with a little sister. At fourth grade, she left the institute, took her papers and went home. To say goodbye only ran, thanked for everything, said that he was going to go to the local school as a teacher of computer science - there are in the shortage. She snorted me into the unshaken cheek and fled behind the doors of our lab. Maybe someday, according to the promising plans of our government, the Internet will still be drawn into this depth and we will meet again on the Internet.