And somewhere in the parallel world, an athlete from Monaco, who moved to a permanent residence in Volgograd, is now making amendments to the constitution of the Principality of Monaco.

The story from the network from the girl: "I have a weak vision. Once I was on the bus, and my eyes fell on a guy with a red cat he was constantly kissing in the lobby. My affection had not ended until I looked up and saw that he had a Cheburek in his hands."

If a woman says she needs a strong man’s hand, believe me, she doesn’t mean a hand at all.

The Ideal Wife

(The story is long but IMHO worth reading)

I decided to study the lives of doctors, so to speak, from the inside, as they study us through their fibro and gastro scops. I agreed with good acquaintances, I came up with the reason - I said I need to be able, if anything, to provide first aid, well there to cut up appendicitis, to give birth or to transplant the kidney, because around the desert or the sea and help to wait from nowhere. I didn’t care about three boxes.

- Okay - agreed my acquaintances - if you want - roll. Do not complain afterwards.

I was placed in the best brigade.
I waited for the first departure as a revelation, I thought everything might and I would agree on something and even save someone. Here is the team:

The sixth brigade is out.

The sixth brigade is me.
The Fieldsman arrived. The doctor climbed.

What there?
Someone is dying. Theft of 17.
A. Then I’ll go for a coffee.
The patient is dying!
“Well, yes,” the doctor agreed, “as long as we get there, he will still die. Or survive on its own. All from God...

And of course, he went to drink his coffee.
What am I for...?
It is I to the fact that all doctors are not very romantic. They are realistic. And the cynics. Professional is...
We finally gathered and went.
Not in a hurry.

- At the kiosk slowdown - asked the doctor - I will buy a cigarette. is finished.
have slowed.
Why are we so slow? he asked.
I’m not in a hurry to get it. – I’m not in a hurry to get it. Whoever dies there, Alkas dies there. The main thing is not to die, it will survive everyone. And you and I... We are all these addresses like five fingers. We know, there were...

And surely, we met Alkas - such a buzz for the deceased.

Where are you...? Why are you so long? They ride... And the man, the proletariat, to die, right?
Better to die! The proletarian’s wife cried, “Doctor, let him sleep.” Absolutely!
He doesn’t want me to fall asleep, he must save me. Reply to Alcatraz.
Infantile like a satiated piton, the doctor put something in there, gave something to eat and something to drink.
All right, we went.

And we went.
Then there were other addresses and there were dying and dying and all this daily, without screams – “He leaves us,” not like in the series. Everything is boring, until the end.
“He’s leaving us,” I heard from the doctors only once when they talked about the deputy chief physician. And they added, “Finally!” and “It’s time.”
I am all about what? Oh yes... about the wife... Let’s get to the wife...

Soon I got used to it. And I am used to. And I was already forced to drag cartridges and hold and turn patients and even give some ampoules there. And I was no longer rattled by the sight of blood, and I didn’t squeeze my nose by the smells. of different. Because the disease is a thing, first of all, low appetite - blood, rot, heavy spirit, caprizes, threats and tears of relatives.
The grief.
Why doctors with experience – like turtles in armor – are impenetrable. Nothing is!

Was he dead?
Apparently yes.
Okay, set the time. And ampoules gather... Condolences... We’ve dried up here with you...

And then - sitting in the car - next to the deceased broken as if he was scrolled through a meat-cutter, and they crack white. And they say:

Meat not roasted, raw meat.
– Aha...

Everything is on the drum.
Even though they sometimes break them...
This is about the perfect wife.
There was a challenge to the area built by the private sector, where the hell of the foot... But the driver was driving confidently - ambulance drivers know every hole in any hole.
We go. This time quickly - it can be seen that the brigade knew nothing about this address. The driver even turned on the mirror.

To the right, to the left, under the brick. They arrived.
Small, in three windows house, cash, wooden fence. A man stands next to the fence. Years of Seventy. He drove to us like a parent, barely lying under the car.

Soon, he is dying!

pulled into the house.
The house is cleaned and half dismantled.

There and there!

I pulled over the fence.
Behind the door is a bed. A woman in bed. I see a wife.

What about her?
He is dying! It was bad in the morning, and now.

The woman was lying upright, with her eyes closed with her hands on her chest, and it was not even clear whether she was breathing or not.
The doctor nodded the fieldcher. He opened the bag.
And by the way the doctor sneezed, the doctor understood everything. And I understood. On the side – yes, you can’t understand, but I’ve already travelled with them and learned to read between the lines. There was nothing to do here, no ambulance or any help at all.

So what...? How... Will she live? asked the man.

Although she did not live anymore.
The doctor measured the pressure, listened to something in the phonendoscope. In order to purify conscience.

Do you hear me? he asked. And louder than E!

He shook and shook the sick.
No any reactions. The patient did not see, hear, or feel anything. She was no longer here. She was already there.
But before she was released, the doctor had to perform a series of manipulations designed to hold the deceased in this world for another twenty minutes.
Feldscher put something in the vein. I put something under the skin.

Reply to! Do you hear me?

But the patient didn’t even squeeze. Even after the cubes.
All...
The doctor relaxed. He no longer obstructed. He did everything he could, according to the instructions of Minzrav. Now he could wash his hands.

Give me a towel.
The man did not understand.
The doctor repeated.
The man began to look at him confusedly. – The towel? Yes is? I don’t know where... right now.

I turned to my wife. The dead.

Masha, Masha, where are our towels? and? Where is the towel? The doctor asks.

The doctor looked at the man.

and Masha. Say to Masha!

The doctor murmured for the fieldsher to prepare a syringe with a sedative. And I probably thought that I would have to call a psychic brigade and maybe even tie a man’s sleeve.

Ma asha!

And here, something like this happened – unimaginable, because the woman moved, breathed and opened her eyes.

Where are the towels? he asked.
- There! replied the dead woman - In the closet - and pointed her finger.

The doctor lost his jaw.
Fellows had an ampoule.
She closed her eyes and froze.

The Spritz! The Doctor – Three cubics! Two cubes! And yet...

Do you hear me?
The woman heard nothing.

- Hey, open your eyes! asked the doctor, shaking the dead patient by the shoulder. And quite rude.

She was lying in an untouched bed. With hands on the chest.
I put three cubes. and two more.

Do you hear me? Do you hear?

No to fuck! My grandmother gave no signs of life. None of any.
Grandma is dead.
Felder stumbled with a syringe in his hand. The doctor nodded his head. Feldscher dropped the syringe.
My husband came out because of the fence. Without a towel.

I didn’t find it, he blamed his hands.
“No need for a towel,” the doctor replied, getting up and going away.
I didn’t find a towel. It is not in the closet.

The woman shrugged, and breathed. and opened her eyes.
The doctor sat.
The Fieldsman too.
The woman overwhelmed everyone with a meaningless, outsider look.

- Masha, there is no towel there, - complained the husband, - I was looking.

The patient’s eyes were sensitive.

Look at the upper shelf, under the shelf.
A, under the floor. Okay to see.

My husband left the barrier.

The doctor whispered.
to you?
No... to her!

I have seen all this! I was there! I am under oath.

The doctor exhales. – At the end!

He added something about the cubes and shouted:

Oh you, how you are there... Yeah, you! Go here! and faster!

My husband came.
Without a towel.

- You, ask her, said the doctor, feeling uncomfortable under his coat, because he felt like a complete idiot, - Ask her, how does she feel?
My husband cried.

– Masha... Masha... The doctor asks how you feel?

The doctor looked at the dead woman. The look of an intrigued pathologist who just opened the deceased and found something there that should not be. Something too much.

and Masha. by Masha! Masha is!

Hm...
And again, from somewhere out of the abyss, from the darkness of that light, from the very bottom, the woman went to her husband's call and, clinging and clinging to his voice, went out, submerged, returned. and asked:

What are you?
The doctor asks, how are you feeling?

The doctor smiled badly.

I... thank you... yes... better.
Did you find the towel?
and no.
Sorry Doctor, I am so helpless. I am now, I am...
to lie! The doctor rattled.

Because, suddenly, I believed that this dead woman would be able to get up and go beyond the fence, and get on the table and break the laundry to find and bring him a towel and still on the hands to pour!

I have to, my husband suggested.
and back!
The towel...
What kind of towel? I don’t need a towel, I don’t need a towel. Talk to her.
About what?
I do not know! about anything. Speak to! Since you are... - the doctor could not even pick up the right words, - Talk!

And I thought of myself about the puffy beast and the fact that medicine here is definitely powerless. In a different, unusual context.
And the deceased woman, only now realizing the medical brigade located near her, began to swing over the blanket with her fingers and worriedly asked:

You drink tea, you drink it.
Where is the sugar, where is the sugar?
There, in the buffet, on the middle shelf.

And the doctor said:

And so on! and so on, your mother!

Because when we don’t know what to say, from the excess of feelings, we always say so.
And he said to the Feldscher, hopelessly shaking his hand:

Call the resuscitation brigade. and fast! He warned them to take him to the hospital.
to whom?
The husband!
Look at the Fellowship.
As a defibrillator.

Then, in the car, the doctor remained silent for a long time, putting his fists in his beard, and then breathed:

I have never been jealous of patients. In general never. I envy that. In the black! He doesn’t even know where sugar is.

What a woman I caught! What... The perfect!
He silenced again. and Finally. He probably remembered his wife. All four of them were divorced.
And here I agree with him, of course. Luckily the man. What yes, then yes! But maybe there was something...
I did not ride with that brigade anymore.
I did not ride at all.
Enough...

by Andrey

Here you are lying on the couch and you do not do the niqab, and Isinbayeva has flown to Monaco and is writing the Constitution for you, thief!

I was about 12 or so. I was very interested in strategies such as AOEIII and Rome: Total War. Sometimes at night I sat on vacation, and then slept until two o'clock in the day)) (And what a sin to hide, even now sometimes I can hang on for a couple of days, then let go) Mom's son from the games to distract tried many times, but something did not work out in her very. And then it came to her mind the idea of my motivation: to bet with me, for a dispute shorter to take. Under the terms of the contract, I had to spend 3 summer months without a computer (totally), and she will give me 10,000 rubles in exchange for what I would like. Tom was cut off. I gathered all my will in my fist and spent the whole summer wandering through the streets and making plans for a bright future with ten carpenters in my pocket.



I think everyone knows that my mom didn’t give me any money. No, it’s not that they didn’t exist. The fact is that "We spent a lot on you and so for this summer, here is the jacket, shoes you new for the winter took, the writing table put to school and generally where do you so much?!?!It is 111.

In objection, “I have, but we have agreed!“I was called ungrateful. No, not so though. “I am not grateful, you are bad!” At that moment I stopped believing her words.

From the discussion of child psychological trauma:



xxx: So my younger brother was accused of calling the line, having sex on the phone and talking about two average salaries, though he didn’t call.

YYY: Did you call?

xxx: yes

I work in a furniture salon. Once there came a man, such a funny, simple. Well, I think I will be with him easily and unforced. I chose the bed.

He gave him a bed with a lifting mechanism. And then I am, man.

I: this bed with extra storage space is quite spacious and stylish. Between us: "in her and the mistress, in case, can be extinguished!"

M: I see it! That’s why my wife sent me here.

Both thought

I went to a local supermarket. I am standing, waiting for the seller at the confectionery. Near a dense man with a basket of foods in his hand, something carefully looking at the tables with boxes of hanging cookies. He puts his basket on the floor and slowly bypasses one table, the other. Around the next table, stumbling on his basket and evil: "Who put!“On the side of the look. Then he looks into the basket. He quietly leaned, quietly lifted, quietly left.

When I was nine or ten, my mom gave me a girl’s diary. I explained that I can write everything I want and nobody will know. It contained both various thematic sections that could be filled out and simply spread pages. Overall, the diary didn’t really interest me, but on one of these varied twists I wanted to write my impressions of a trip to a neighboring city – for me this was the first trip up to 400km!



In short, I wrote what I wanted and put a diary on the shelf. Some time later, my mom at breakfast told me how good I am and how well she wrote a story in her diary. I didn’t want to write anything personal anywhere. Even as a daily newspaper, I use the program on my phone.

I sat next to a girl on the road today. A little later, my grandmother came in and sat in front of us. The girl took the smartphone, put it in front of herself, and the grandmother says:

Remove the phone.

Why this? The girl asked.

You are blaming me!

Why are you ticking me? The girl was upset.

I understood it for a long time and said to my grandmother:

Let’s change places.

How about you? My grandmother asked.

I am strong, I can withstand it.

We moved, the girl continued to radiate, this time me, and the grandmother looked at me with gratitude and compassion.

Being a hero is not difficult.

We live in a world of predicted future. Only it is completely different. I remembered the movie “A Guest from the Future” and the book “A Hundred Years Ahead.” There is a boy, Cole, who from the sixties or seventies goes a hundred years ahead and is shocked when his grandfather passes by on a circus one-wheel bike. Because it is wild and incomprehensible. And I remembered this episode, when a bearded hipster passed by me on a gyroscooter.

Not further than yesterday or yesterday, a friend (and I with him) experienced something. On Friday he was announced oncology, on Saturday morning on the basis of tests established that she is not. This was on Monday morning so that no one would be worried.

Practice shows that the most fierce controversy is about tastes.

It was told by the son of the frontman Alexander Vasilyevich Kurilkin, born in 1935.

My father was named Vasily Andreevich Kurilkin. We lived in the village of Khutorovka Muravljansky district of the Ryazan region. There were six people in the family – a father with a mother, a grandmother and three children, of whom I am the eldest. In the spring of 1941, his father sold a cow to learn to drive. Training was paid. What is it for a village family with children to lose a cow - it is difficult to decide. But apparently it was worth it. To become a driver for a collective farmer with a three-class education was then, as we will now call it, a social elevator.

His father studied in Morchansk and received a driver’s license. He began his training at the Reuters organization. Our places are steep. And all organizations were heated with turf. For the population, areas were allocated where the inhabitants themselves excavated turf, dried it and then exported.

The War Began

On June 22, 41 I remembered a strong thunderstorm from which the house opposite burned. The roofs were all slopes. And the fire escaped people, who were previously gathered in the council to declare the beginning of the war. The telephone and the radio plate were only in the council, located in a neighboring large village one and a half kilometers from our Khutovka. They ran, and my mother said, “War!”

Two days later, my father came to the agenda - to appear on 27.06.41 at the district military committee. I and my neighbor’s girl, who was two years older, took my father’s agenda at Reitorff. He immediately calculated, came home... Torf for heating was not picked up these days – the water was not sleeping enough. So my father, in order to provide us with warmth for the winter, cut off the six wheels that were growing near the house, sprinkled and carved us wood for the winter, and went to war.
In the 1970s, I asked him about everything.

They arrived mobilized in Ryazhsk. They built them. Drivers and tractors were ordered to leave. The father came out and showed the certificate of the trainee. He was immediately taken to the photographer and issued the driver's license the same day. Then – Moscow, Alabino, where the regiment of reactive mortars “Katyush” was formed. He was appointed a half-turn driver - not with a jet installation, but with support machines.
From Alabino he wrote home: “Hungry! If you can, send a package. Even the sweaters...”

My mother came to the government, where they gave bread to the families of the Red Army. Gave bread, mother dried, sent a package, and then - more and more. I sent four packages. But he only got the first – he got surrounded. Letters came from him first. In October they stopped.

surrounded by

In the first half of October, they formed a column with military property and were sent to Smolensk. They carried uniforms, products, ammunition, bandages and medicines. On the other hand, refugees. On tracks and on foot, with knots, children, with wheelchairs and carts - who how. And the Red Army are going – who has rifles, who is unarmed, who is wounded... And the wounded are carried. They came to the place, unloaded somewhere in the slope... The “German” flew, bombed, and they sit in this forest 150 meters from the road – as I understand it was the Warsaw highway – and the Germans went on the highway. Tanks, artillery, infantry, warships and trucks... The Germans knew that in the woods they were surrounded, and one tank on this side of the road, the other on that side, went along the side of the road forward and forward, and sometimes shot from machine guns on the gun.

The day went by, the second, the week... I read a book about these events, in which it was said that the surroundings were first and foremost removed from the command.

Someone had a team to burn cars. They burned. And here, my father told me, he is lying on the roof, looking at the road. Then one of the boys came and said, “Let’s go to captivity and surrender.” In prison, I will not go.” He flaps, the father hears the noise, and then some noise and silence. The father looks around – he lies with a hole in his forehead. My father did not hear the gunshot. He probably stood up and caught a shale bullet.

Another week passed – the nights became cold... One morning someone appeared to them. He was thrown into his eyes, as his father said, “new clothes.” Their uniforms from climbing the forest were dirty, worn out. And this – in a purely new form or in a civil – the father did not explain – and with a tablet, and then it turned out that he had a compass, a lamp... And he says: “Those who want to get out of the surroundings tonight gather on this lawn. We, as it gets dark, will accumulate in front of the road, make a rush through it. There is also a forest along the road. I will bring you all to my own. Having weapons and military possessions.” He kept confident. It aroused confidence, a subconscious desire to listen.

My father had an anti-gas. As it was dark, we gathered on the field. The man came and brought more people. He was gathering all over the forest. They gathered closer to the road, ran through it, ran for forty minutes through the woods, then stopped on the road, gathered together. A large group is 150 people or more. He took them further. We went to the forest in the morning. They seem to have been waiting for them here. Products were prepared. Supported with potatoes, tea, soup were...

I went to Moscow for more than two weeks. We spent the night in rigs, barracks of some, in cattle gardens. Eating colloquial products. Somewhere they cooked potatoes. In one collage, a year-long calf was cut off. The calf was eaten immediately. True, the father threw the anti-gas there, and put a little meat in the anti-gas bag. Later they cooked and ate. Some locals were skeptical of the rough and dirty surroundings: “Run?” The father and the others replied, “We will come back.” And they said again, “Well, yes... you’ll come back...”

This comrade brought them to Moscow, to some club, and handed them over to someone. They settled in this improvised barracks. My father walked out of the club and looked at the car. Number from their regiment. I went to the sergeant in the club – so and so, there is a car from our regiment. Sergeant to Lieutenant. He orders the sergeant to bring the senior – who is there with the car. The sergeant brought. Their own? The OUR! Take it! My father returned to the regiment. No inspections, nothing

And here I will now make a small retreat - I will tell from myself. Once in one company, where I didn’t know everyone, there was a conversation about war, and I told that story. And one there was a Uzbek a little younger than me, he was noticeably surprised, worried during my story. Then he took me to a sidewalk and said, “Here’s what you’ve been telling me about surrounding me, crossing the road, going out to Moscow and staying in a club – my father told me the same thing. He graduated from military school in the 1930s. was an officer. And, as you have now told, word by word, pulled people out of the surroundings under Yelnea.” I did not agree with the Uzbek at the time. And I still regret not taking his address, not asking for more details... I tried to find him later – it didn’t work. But that is not all. I recently read the book “The Invisible Front”. It is made up of individual cases, episodes. The author is a former employee of the NKVD. And when he describes how NKVD personnel were thrown into guerrilla units, from where they were then transported through the front line wounded, children and women.. - the author says, among other things: "I myself crossed the front line more than five times near Yelnea, bringing out groups of surrounders." Per the author of this book and pulled out of my father’s surroundings. Even more likely, the NKVD sent dozens of its officers out of the front line in order to organize and lead the outgoing of the surroundings to their own. Do not allow them to be killed in vain or captured. And how our there in German captivity "survived" in the caviar, we all know. Therefore, I worship this officer and all the others who brought out the surroundings.

The front roads

And at his father the roads were then lying... He called Yuchnov, Old Russa, Mohaysk, Kalinin, Stalingrad... He hardly remembered Stalingrad. When there were many dead, they dug a long pit, and on the one hand they overthrew the Germans as necessary, and on the other hand they carefully laid the line of our fighters. These are his words. Another case told... at the front batch a battalion or regiment is beaten out – new ones are coming. Those who are left are taken away, these are taken into their barracks. In the hole - there they are called "balls" - gathered, those who arrived, here the air strike, and very well bombed - almost all laid. It was very terrible there. The Germans complained about it. Our cholera started there – stopped on time. Once – the father says – it was foggy, they decided to “burn lice.” Bowl on fire. Inside the bars, the clothes were laid down on them, and then the fog broke up, the German arrived. began to bomb. Everyone is where. Who is dressed and who is naked? The Germans destroyed 11 cars. But literally the next day, new ones came from the reserve.

He talked about Belarus. After 42 years of age, his father most often carried the reconnaissance. What does this mean for the Katyush Regiment? - If somewhere you need to shoot, an officer sits up to the car, they go, determine the site from where you can hit the planned areas, and so that there are conditions for hidden rapid deployment, and even faster withdrawal after the shell. Not to fall under retaliatory fire.

And they go on a forest road, whether the map was wrong, whether the officer was confused with something, or the situation changed, which the officer did not know, but suddenly, literally ten meters in front of the car, the Germans with rifles jumped out of the bush. Father walked on them – they went back into the bushes. The Germans followed the fire, scattered the body, and fired the rear wheels. It is good that the road after 10-15 meters turned, and the target shooting was short. It was ZIS-5. He had the paired wheels on the leading rear bridge... The outer wheels were shot, but they were able to reach their own.

There was another case. Bring some cargo to the front. He came out of the cabin – a click, scratched his hair. They say to him, “Lieve me! Sniper!” he fell to the ground – he is screamed that two have already been killed. He lay dark. The car was unloaded at night.

After the victory

He met his father in Königsberg. After the victory, we had to ride a lot. Not more than during the fighting. I went to Germany, wherever I went. That’s why I got on my lips. He moved from flight to flight, and again returned to his position, he has a new prescription for tomorrow. He said, “What am I?” No other drivers, right?Some commander says, “Take him on your lips!” They took him to the basement, brought a mattress, brought food... Closed... Eaten, slept... tomorrow, closer to lunch, they come:

Have you slept?

He is asleep!

Have you gone?

We have gone!

And in July 45 they built a staff: "Who wants to go to Poland to harvest the harvest?" I called. I went to Stettin. He worked on a hammer. I gave her snaps. All Poles treated the Russians normally, except for one woman. It was very bad for the Russians. The father said, “The bite is literally ready.” Others explained that her husband fought on the side of the Germans and died.
In October, the father returned from the cleaner to the regiment, and it turned out that his call has already been demobilized, and the formed train to Moscow has already gone. The father in the headquarters: “How about me now?” the headquarters says: “Send him with the Kiev train. He will get there.”

More about Victory

In our school jumped a deliberate - a messenger from the council. He said, “O guys! Go to the fields, gather the people. The war is over!”

What a lesson! We run to the stall. Understand the horses. And with a hole – without seeds, of course – jumped into the fields. We were all riding horses for three years. There were hundreds and a half horses in the village. Although, as the war began, 20 or 30 were given to the army.

Everyone gathered in the horse yard. The whole village. Of them only two men. One - by age did not go to the front, the other - commissioned for injury. They removed the gate from the cockpit, placed on the cart - a common table. They brought people who had food. Self-race, of course – we chased it out of sugar beets. A lot of crying. Then we went around the village with songs and dances. The music was a stove and a knife knocked on it.

He returned home on October 27, 1945. Worked as a driver.
He was awarded medals “For military merits”, “For courage”, “For the defense of Stalingrad”, “For victory over Germany”. It was given to him after the war. He was awarded the medal “For the Defense of Moscow”. He gave her to the commissariat, but she was lost, and there was no medal. I asked in the Podolsk archive – the answer was somewhat unreasonable, but negative.

60 people left the village. It was the first military summer. The first funeral took place in July. And then one by one. And after 43 years, we stopped being afraid of the funeral. Not for whom to receive. Everybody was upgraded. Only 15 to 18 people returned. There are five drivers. The rest - who after the injury was commissioned, and most did not fight at the very front. Who was the carpenter - carpenters and in the army were needed. Who is in the wharf, where else... Most of them – immediately into the barracks to the most advanced, and died.

And how our village lived through the war, how old and small people worked for defense, the army and the country were fed – I will tell you the next time.

Filed to:Victor Gladkov

Science and religion can coexist. For example, to manufacture a bomb requires science, and to undermine it requires a religious man.

This surprising incident occurred in the remote 1996 in the city of Moscow on the legendary substance market of Luzhnik. In the ordinary people, everyone knew him as Luza. Enormous amounts of money, goods, people, and stories were tightly intertwined into one huge globe called the Loja. And here is one of them directly touching your submissive servant, as I had to take the most active part in this funny and at the same time instructive story.



At this time I was then working as a carrier at one food point in a small company. Although this is a very loud name for a business of 10 food tents. These tents provided hot and cold food and beverages to sellers and buyers on the market. You can say that they were the ancestors of our Little Cards and similar institutions. My immediate responsibilities included providing the work of my point. Namely, the supply of everything necessary, protection, control of sellers and solving emerging problems.

A few words about my wonderful friend. Her name was Love Aphonasievna, her birthplace was from the city of Kupyansk, Ukraine.By education she was a teacher and gave her favorite profession all her life. But under retirement, the difficult economic situation forced her to change her profession and place. This was a wonderful, charismatic woman, who in her homeland deserved respect and love.

The head, he was the owner of this enterprise was a colourful, smart and very advanced in terms of business Caucasian Lyon. (But of course he was not a liar at all, but he was so called and arranged.) For his advancement, he gave our prison system several years for illegal business activities. There is such an article in the UK and no one has cancelled it yet.

And now that we are familiar with almost all the actors, we can begin to tell.

One morning, when ordering products at a point, Lenya approached me and, squeezing, asked me what a dialogue was followed.

Where do you get so much pepper?

How much? is normal. A pack of black and a pack of red.

You took it yesterday and yesterday.

- Well, in the food order Love Aphonasievna wrote, this is what I collect.

- Yes, you know that in other points who for a week, and who for a month take a package and everything is okay, and yours every day. Why does she collect pepper there and send it to Ukraine?

Okay, I will get it done.

I really thought here. Not that it was a big problem, but once the boss said, you have to find out what it was about. After passing through the point and waiting for silence, I asked for an explanation. She replied indignantly:

And what if I have such a client, and a constant one, and he eats all this pepper at once, that I should lose it? He may be the only reason that he goes to me and that I don’t go to the pepper.

Love, you are a decent woman, but please don’t talk. Where is it seen to eat a pack of pepper at once?

Come for lunch and see. You will apologize for your mistrust.

Tom was cut off. And I thought, well, it is unlikely that such a person exists, well, if he is and where he is, then not in Luja, but somewhere in Thailand. And she will not bring him to lunch, and whoever can and can talk about this procedure, but hardly tolerate it. This man will be cursed, and I will laugh.

Lunch is coming. I am waiting. Love Aphonasievna asked me in advance not to be careful, but to sit quietly. And here he suits. For me, the seller makes a conditional sign and I begin to look unnoticed at our trial. A Chinese or a Korean, the hell will take them, all on one face, sluggish body, low, dull skin. The whole circus begins. I barely broke my eyes as I crashed. Love Aphonasievna imposes a portion of peelings on the client. Then take the red pepper and pour it completely into the plate. Then there’s another black package. You can imagine that the white color of the peelings was not seen. Take 100 grams of vodka and a piece of black bread. The Chinese are not in a hurry to eat. And it was so appetizing for him that I even had saliva. He grabbed the pellet on a fork, soaked it in a brown pear juice and sent it into his mouth. Then he slowly chewed, bitten the bread a little bit and drank a little glass of vodka. And not a single sign of any discomfort I did not see, but it was evident from him that he really the process. This is the downfall!! This is the magic!! Softly speaking, I was in shock.

Then there was a bad picture. My behavior attracted the attention of others and when they understood what it was a little too, we probably all the faces were "surprised", the eyes came out of the orbits.The upset Chinese stopped chewing and only incomprehensively translated his gaze from one to another. And only my saleswoman with a victorious look and a stuntman in her hand watched us from a distance.

Having understood the absurdity of the situation, I approached the Chinese and apologized for the concern. The rest of the Zevak asked to go away and went for a tribute to Love Aphonasievna. She complained to me that he probably would not come to her again after such a confusion. Of course it was my fault and I needed to fix the situation. I approached him and talked. We talked a little and during the conversation I, with admiration for his gift, gave him one advice on how to eat lunch for free and get money for it. You just have to argue about it and offer the opponent himself to pour the pepper at his discretion.

A couple of weeks. And again there was a conversation with Lene about the pepper. Naturally, he didn’t believe me and we decided to bet on a box of cognac. At that time, there were values. And after another demonstration of the wonderful abilities of our Chinese, I won 20 bottles of cognac. I never got a win. How is it. But this evening he laid a table for our whole collective. Toli helped me to do that, Toli did so.

But that is not all. What is the main morality of this story? Somewhere in a month my saleswoman asked me to meet with a customer. Honestly, I thought there would be some complaints or complaints, but it turned out to be much more interesting. The Chinese were waiting for me. We warmly greeted, talked a little about life, and then he extended me 5,000 rubles (then it was millions) with words of thanks for giving him good advice about betting on food. Of course I refused and motivated it by the fact that he was eating pepper, not me. And then he told me the abbreviated words that made me take the money and put it off for my whole life.

You Russians will never live well until you change your attitude to business and money. Do you think I’m doing you well for giving you money? I do good to myself first, and then only to you. This is a reward for a good business idea. I am now earning more on pepper than on the main job and faster and still full constantly. But now that you will know that I will definitely thank you, you or your friends will tell me and they will give me some idea or you will tell me something else. I make money and let others make money. This is the only way to do business for many years, not as you do once. Urval and dropped to the side.

Here is one bet, two people, two results, two philosophies of life.

I was eight or nine years old when my grandmother lost her gold watch. She made an alarm. The clock is dear, oh!

My uncle, aunt and mom interrogated me by putting me on the kitchen table and forcing me to look in my eyes. I explained to them that I didn’t take it, that I had no idea, but they pushed from different sides, shedding tears from me from the powerlessness to prove anything to three adults.

They morally pressed me for 4 hours, looking for approaches from different sides. “Maybe you forgot, but with whom it doesn’t happen” and so on. The tactics of a good and a bad policeman, threats and pity, all mixed for a frightened me into lulling shame and misunderstanding.

Something inside me broke. I was not believed! I tell the truth and they don’t believe me. The crack broke and a thin branch of childish carelessness and self-belief broke within me.

In the end, I became so nauseous, scary, and so bad from the press that in order to stop this torture, I lied.

I said I gave my clock to a friend in the class.

Bicycle and a friend.

Of course, they knew nothing there.

The next day I went to school with my head down, ashamed and angry with myself.

In front of a friend I apologized, but in the stomach that day there was lava and I could not study normally.

Inside there was a strong insult, guilt, shame and reluctance to go home, in which my own mother betrayed me, not believing me, her son.

A week later my grandmother found the clock.

No one apologized before me. Why apologize to a child? What such?

I just stopped trusting my mother and family.

Laughing at politicians is not a reason to choose them.

I needed to make an important call. I was afraid to remember, and decided to turn to artificial intelligence.
Alice, please remind me to call at 7 p.m.
Include a reminder.
The evening came, I safely did not forget, but I decided to wait for a reminder (although it sounds).
19:00 is silence.
19:01 - in confusion
Alice, why didn’t you remind me to call?
And I forgot.
Good people, is this intelligence really artificial?! to