For example, why and how sellers in the store ask for a passport when buying alcohol and cigarettes. Today was my first weekend in a long time. I cleaned up in the morning and then went to the store. In view in the mirror - suits the quarterback, in self-esteem - generally the older sister of the tortoise Tortilla. I stand in front of the box, tortured, choked, on the tape - not what a set of "family woman", but the entire arsenal of the hostess 80 lvl: flour, eggs, milk, yeast, sugar, several types of meat, tons of 2 vegetables, pasta, cereals, yoghurt, red dry self, beer good faithful. And then the cashier comes to the bottles and demands a passport! I don’t even catch up right away, at my twice eighteen! I try to understand to whom her passport was handed over, if I pay not with a card, but in cash.
She said to me, “You are drinking alcohol! Have a passport? - I fall into a precipitation, I find a passport, I begin to think about a miraculous zone in the supermarket, which gives the effect of a sharp and sudden rejuvenation... She sees my deep Soviet year of birth, too... I cannot withstand and with shy hope ask: - and what, I look at 17?
What a cashier, philosophically: - and who is there now will find out... what horses go, and also schoolchildren... and you... pause... small, small, unpainted...
O great and powerful Russian service! No one has violated my self-esteem yet.