Just that: returning from a late walk to the source of food, he walked through a wide alley, where the shelves stood on the sides. I decided to sit down and rest. Just on the side, on the contrary, a guy sits on the bench and looks at the phone.

The hallway, by the way, is very bright, you can read books at night.

There are two girls passing by, classically discharged in minis and shorts, and walking something intermediate between a dog, a rat and a squirrel, without a leash.

For an unknown reason, the girls fell asleep to smoke and talk about "life" between me and the guy. And, for the same unknown reason, their mini-mutant with open eyes begins, squeezing, to whip an innocent guy.

He first looks silently at the saucer, then at the girl. The slide reduces the distance and increases the frequency of sound oscillations. The guy, trying to break through them, polently asks the girls to attach the animal to the thread, but they ignore the request. The second request is accompanied by an unclear answer such as "what does it not bother."

Here, the saucer, apparently getting the spiritual support of his guardians, clings to the poor guy in the trousers.

I was ready for a fierce clash of all four participants with each other, but the guy reluctantly removed the phone in his jacket, lifted the seam behind the necklace, removed it from the trousers, and carefully put it... in the trash.  Such, you know, cylindrical shape, which on the pillars of the lighthouse attached over the ground.

He took on his deeds.

To get out of the bottom of the garbage, the sewing could not, and exploded with an even louder nervous crackling.

The girls, of course, rushed to save their "miracle", and began to shout the dissolving shadow of the guy of threat and insult of the most different degrees of decency.

Listening to this stream to the end I did not decide, and also rushed home.

The boy comes in the morning and says:

If you like a girl at work, give her a flower.

Wife: what, b##

No one contributes so much to the development of domestic tourism as food suppliers with a ban on traveling abroad.

The camera history.

One Saturday morning, I got a call from the department.
And Alexander Georgievich?
He is the same.
This is area. Please come to my office with your IS-12.
Just with him?
Others are not interested.
has arrived. There, at the entrance, a sergeant waits and you have to go through a long corridor, behind the turn of which the section office. I was not there, but I found it.
Hi to you.
Hi to you.
and here.
Staley looked at the permit, swirled the number with iron.
and all.
All of it? What happened to that?
Murder with the use of 12 caliber circumcision. We are checking the presence of guns in Kiev and the region.
A. Well yes So I went?
Goodbye to you.
I go to the exit, and the sergeant does not let me on the post! He says I have to have a passport to leave! In other words, I am a fugitive.
Behold, this sergeant stuck me in a monkey near the entrance to the department, and he went out to find out.
Beauty in the monkey. A couple of bombs of both sexes, the alchemy sleeps and goodbye!
Such a goodwill, collages with Lurex, papyrus asks. Lack of bonds.
We smoke with her, we have a worldly conversation. Menta is not. Will I show you a rifle?
and Hach!! to
I gathered, gathered, gathered and gathered.
A minute later, twenty ranks higher than the starters go through the corridor.
How I was overwhelmed when they saw that from a monkey in them was targeted a 12-caliber prostitutes with a papyrus in the corner of their mouth!

I was driven out of the lie, and the prostitute was not taken with me. and sorry. We seem to have already been friends.

Humble to disgrace... After disgrace again humble.

We were 14 years old. We, it is me, Vytke, Rus (Ruslan), Slavka, Lechka.

All free time spent in the stadium, playing football (in one gate).

We come to the stadium of the countryside, bring water in a three-litre bank, drink very much wanted)))

We were sent to death by one old man, Sereza Safin.



He will come (living near the stadium), and let us wash (pnet, strike, push). Scott in one word. He is healthy, going to the army in autumn, and we are 13-14 years old.

Serrezh was taken to the army (then taken for 2 years).

Flying 2 years.

Sergey came from the army, went out to the stadium, and there we, in football, cut.

Sereza remembered how he chased us to the army, nostalgia covered him.

I came (in the parade with the axelbants),

“Well, salabons, how have you lived here while I pulled the shaft for you?”

And the lashes on the face lash with all their strength.



Here he was pleasant. All together, a lot and disorderly. He lay on the ground and just waved.

And you know, I’m not sorry for this fall. And when they say it’s unfair and unfair, I mean, it all depends on the circumstances.

My friend's boss bought an Audi cabriolet when they were still very expensive "toys" and not everyone could afford such a car. One of the objects to talk about was the shooting arches, which worked out when the car started to turn to the roof.



A few months after the purchase, he was given the opportunity to test these arches as he lost control of the steering and flew out of a depth of about 10 meters.

The bows did their job, he survived, getting rid of just a few cuts and scratches from the bushes through which he flew. He got out of the car, climbed up the top to the side of the road, and then called the police to report the incident. While he was standing there, the driver of another car, who witnessed the accident, approached to talk to him.

Approaching from behind, the eyewitness asked if he was okay. My friend’s boss turned around to answer, and fell dead. It turned out that his neck was broken, but it was whole until he turned his head and there was a spinal cord rupture.

My mom’s friend had a small house, and he lived there alone. She began to notice strange things: the soup in the pot was shrinking faster than usual, often lacking eggs in the refrigerator, damp wipes in the basket that she didn’t use, excess dishes in the dishwasher, etc. This lasted for months and she just rejected it all for her forgetfulness. One day she heard some noise on the roof and went to look to see what was going on. She saw there the resemblance of rooms which were separated between themselves by leaflets. A small radio, plate, sleeping bag, pillow, food clothes, etc. She called the cops and told them about her discovery. Police began to monitor the woman’s house. Eventually, they caught a homeless man climbing a tree and trying to penetrate the roof. It turns out he did this almost every day. I waited for her to go to work, climbed up the loft, then went down the stairs and used all the amenities in the house and refused nothing. The most funny thing about this story is that during the long trials they met each other and during the communication this person was very polite and respectful to her. As a result, she did not file charges against him and allowed him to move to himself, helped him get a job. He lived on the roof until he stood on his feet. This is such a terrible shit with the hippie end.

In his life as a student, for a couple of years he rented the floor of a private house near the main building of the university. Those who have ever lived in the private sector know that livelihoods are often pasted on lawns, along roads, etc.

One wonderful spring evening, I went on a date. The thunderstorm just shone, the evening sun warmed gently, the world was clean, shining with washed leaves and promised me a beautiful evening in the company of a girl. I put on white trousers and white shirts and headed to the bus stop. There were no people besides me at the stop. There was only a goat. A healthy goat with curved back rodents. Despite his terrible appearance, the goat did not inspire fear, as he passed peacefully not far from the stop and honored my disguised person only with a passing glance.

The buses went quite rarely, about every 30-40 minutes, so I smoked and gave in to the pleasant dreams of the upcoming date.

And this is how, dreaming and smoking, I hastily walked out along the stop. Then a train hit me behind me. In any case, I thought so. I don’t know what didn’t like to the goat: the smoke, my white clothes, or the fact of my presence where he wanted to pasture, but this cattle, coming behind my back, struck me into the fifth point with all its goat strength.

I flew three or four meters exactly. He landed in a huge hole. Should I say that my entire dress look was washed off in a second.) I stood up, turned around and looked at the goat. He stood at the stop and stared at me. In his eyes was a sense of determination and challenge. I did not accept the challenge and rushed to retreat.

The date did not happen. The back and lower back colored in colorful-lily shades and hurt for two weeks. And the goats I am now walking the tenth road.)

This is one of those episodes that happened with fictional characters in a parallel universe, of course. And the story is not so much about searching, but about the need to filter the air.



It will be about the office, which through simple manipulations turns the non-cash money of customers into cash, thereby "optimizing" the taxable base.



I woke up at 7 a.m. from the phone call of our aitišnik Vani. A good expert, by the way, codes, administers, understands tasks correctly. He can humor. Then there was a mem with a stubborn dog speaking “dratuti”.

But not this time. Now he almost shouted at the phone with an alarming voice:

Andrei, I have menta under the door. What to do?



The dream immediately fades away. In my head there is a thought: “What? Why is he at the door and not me? Is there an Ayatollah at all? Maybe it’s about something else?”

Wait and do nothing. Take the time, I will call back.



I recruit a partner, he does not respond. I call a few more people, silence. I write in Votsap: “Wani has a mint under the door.” From that side comes the message: “Let it open.” And you say, the pursuits do not know how to joke... At this same moment another SMS comes from a comrade who asks how I am doing. Neighbors called him and told him that the police were looking for him. Okay, the situation is understandable.



I call Ivan, that taratorite:

They cut off the light. I open.



I understand everything except one. Why did no one come to me? A call comes from an unknown number:



Andrei Batkovich is?

(Here is it also)

All right

Did you write and call Tom and Tom?

I wrote, I called

Are we standing at your entrance, will you meet ourselves, or will we look for you?



After registration, no one lived with us, only followed up until the entrance.

Let me go down for 5 minutes to get dressed.



I get a wife, I tell the situation. I remember if I have something on my home computer... I understand that I need to override all the correspondence and scratch all the accounts. What I should have thought before. I dress up and call the elevator. He stops in the middle of the road, and there a man in a suit looks at me, who communicates with the neighbors. Did not know? I go down where a young man sits on the bench. I come and say hello. From nowhere, two more workers fly and one goes down the staircase.



Later it turned out that the guy in the store was kind of understood. Well, okay, a man does his civil duty at 7 in the morning, I understand. Given that at the same time about 15 more addresses of our modest company were uncovered, it remains only to be surprised by the consciousness of numerous citizens who agree to such actions.



Then everything is interrupted. Boxes and cabinets, garbage cans, dirty linen boxes, all the compartments in the car on the parking lot where you could hide something. In the phone I have correspondence with figures, on the compilation of work tables. Yes, it had to be thought of before... The opera in the process lead an unforced conversation, tell each other how they went fishing, ask me questions. Only "understood" a little nervous, but nothing, get used to it yet. They then seal all the equipment and documents they find. They give a couple of instructions in the spirit: "you have been involved for more than a year, all the arrangements know for a long time, I do not advise the investigator to cast nonsense." And they are taken to the Investigative Committee on a car worth about 1.5 million. The Department of Economics can afford it.



After 14 hours of waiting without eating in the investigation and superficial interrogation, I am released as a witness. All the arrangements they really had, and during the current day of fruitful conversations, they were able to learn all that was still unclear. As a result, the investigation leaves in unpaid home leave only the organizers and those who carried the money. These guys will need more to shake out customers, the rest are free.



I then meet with the *****ishishnik, on whom this story fell:

I still don’t understand why they came to you at the door and waited for me at the entrance.

“Because someone often asked my address on the phone when I visited...

Why did you take it?

Do you know what the first thing I heard was when I opened the door?

What is?

Dramatic...

Keep the e-book - the storehouse of unpumped knowledge in the brain!

To my aunt came a friend with her husband; they flew in a ball, went to Podolsk. Apparently not far away, but while they were driving, the man - a Maltese in 100500 generation - could not understand where they were.
Eventually he issued:
Are we still in Russia?
He was categorically killed by the answer:
The guy! We are still in Moscow!

Vladimir Putin, while at the MAX air show, bought the ice cream from a vendor who probably sold it to the president in the same place two years ago.
So how much can a FSO employee keep in the sellers?
It is time for the Governor.

Friends have a second child, asking what to buy for the newborn, we are going to mark. We climb the stairs, in the hands of flowers, a cake and a bathtub, the door is opened upstairs and the father of the family runs past us with the matyugs, followed by the screams of the wounded tea tree by the wife, pulling the hand of the five-year-old roaring Andrew. We frightenedly climb into the corner and cover ourselves with a bathtub for the case. Since the spouse runs slower because of the small, then we have time to hear between the shout "how you could, and who you are after that" hospitable: "Come in, we are now."

With fear we enter and wait in the hallway.

They come back joyful, smiling, laughing, the contrast is stunning.

In short, the husband was walking with the children while the wife was preparing for the guests. When it was time to return, the husband gathered Andreushin's molds and machinery and went home with him, and left the wheelchair with the sleeping woman on the site.

After five years, they both returned home. Not used to yet.

A man is worth as much as he can give up.

I worked in a garage cooperative and talked to one of the garage owners.
Her name is Victor, aged between thirty and forty. Social and positive.
Viti complained to me about the uncomfortable location of the accounting device in his apartment.
Five-storey house with shields inside. In two apartments out of four on the site, out of the layout, the shields are at the exit at the door, in the corridor to the toilet-kitchen.
The shields are a iron plate with a counter and traffic jams attached to it.
Be healthy and often these shields break when bringing dimensional things like the piano, with drunk cottage and even when entering the apartment, when immediately after the threshold a person turns to the kitchen. His shoulder clings.
Treatment is to move the shield to the opposite side of the output so that it becomes in the corner in front of the toilet door. And you can't see it, and the work is not difficult, and the hallway will become freer.
We agreed, indicated the price, the material, the time.
I go to the apartment, a call from Victor, say I am late, delayed, but you start without me, at home, wife and child will open.
Well, okay, the less people around me crowd up at work, the better.
I knock on the door, I am opened by a woman of pre-retirement age, in appearance and manners reminiscent of a baseball. Half curly liquid hair, swollen face, vague figure, the first phrase of which was:
A electricist? You just don’t go into the apartment. Will you inherit, will you clean up?
I replied that I was choking and started unpacking.
It was his mother, I decided.
In addition to the woman in the corridor appeared a boy of seven or eight years, with a faner sword, in a helmet like the ancient knights and with a shield. All the causes were skillfully cut on a laser machine and looked awful.
I had a bag with passenger holes and a healthy plastic box for electrical tools.
The boy stumbled his sword on the boxing cover and I was worried. The cover was made of transparent plastic and closed the compartments for every small thing. I would not like to see her broken.
I moved the box to the side:
Do not do that, you will break.
The boy took a step and confidently bowed his head:
Do you know what I will do when I grow up?
I nodded my head negatively.
The boy took another step and pulled out his sword:
I will kill people like you!
Okay, I think the work begins.
I tell the guy out loud not to bother and turn to the bag for passages.
I turn back and almost pull my eye out of the blade of the sword (the sharp tip). The child holds him on extended arms in the direction of my face.
Stop, I say, do not interfere. Why are you doing this at all?
The boy smiles:
Do you dry?
Well, I think, and I call a woman. So, say and say, take away the child - work is hindering, the more I drive with the tool - dressed unintentionally, be kind, lead the child.
The woman’s reaction is striking. He puts his hands on his side:
What did the child not please you? Look at who’s hindering it?
He’s in his hand, I can catch it.
I will catch you! I will catch you so!
I crack, I say that I cannot work in such conditions, that I will come when the child is not at home, I begin to collect the tool.
The woman pulls her hand.
Okay sit here. I was joking. All such gentle straight steel - do not say a word. The princes, the fuck.
He grabs the boy’s hand and goes into a small room. Close the door.
I breathe out and start working.
I roll through the outpost, attach a new box, remove the old shield from the fittings, then knock on the door.
The TV is playing in the room, no more sounds.
I need to warn you that I will turn off the electricity. So I knock louder. I wait.
I knock again with my fist at the door. It shrinks and shrinks. On the threshold this aunt with an unhappy face:
Knock on your head! Are you opponent?
I need to turn off the electricity for half an hour, I answer, I warn.
She measures me with a glance, then pulls a voice:
Nanna is fine.
The door closes, I collect the shield, put new machines, prepare everything so that there is as little work as possible after draining.
After five minutes, I cut off the machine on the site and remove the counter from the old base.
At the door of the room, a aunt stands, bowing her head and says in a tired voice:
- I fucking jumped, not a cartoon...What didn’t you wait for?
I don't understand anything, I ask what I should have been waiting for, what cartoon and what spicy food additives are here?
She explains:
A multicolor knocked for Vitalky to sit quietly. You cut it all. A young man.
I have warned.
Did I say “you can”?
I breathe, say “good” and go to collect the shield.
Vitalka comes out of the room with a sword and helmet, standing and quietly watching.
It stresses, but not very much.
At the moment when I’m forging in my bag looking for a cartridge there, I suddenly get hit by the blade of the sword in the side. The blow is very painful. I scream and jump on my feet.
Vitalka rushes when she has time to jump back to the door of the room.
“I will kill,” he tells me, and with his two hands he strikes with a sword.
- Again, I will throw this stick out of you, I tell him, frankly psychotic. My intentions are the most serious. To be honest, I barely restrained to not strike him.
He stands and slides.
I turn to the shield, I hear the noise, and I get hit with a sword in my hand. If I didn’t turn, I would get in my back.
I catch the sword, pull it out of the kid’s hand and throw it on the kitchen floor.
This devil begins to whisper, as if I had poured it with holy water. He strikes his face toward the sky and shakes his fists in the air.
It was like a pig being cut. Dumb saw, soaked in salic acid.
The aunt jumps out, holds the child on her arms, screams:
What are you creating? Why is he orphan?
The child catches the air in his mouth:
He, he, my sword, the sword, the sword, the sword!
He cries and cries at the same time.
The woman pushes me into the chest with her free hand, the second presses the boy to herself:
“Well, I’ll deal with you right now, you’re all fucking, fucker?
I throw her hand to the side, I get the phone, I say I call Victor, the aunt whispers:
Call me, call me, call Gorbachev.
It is absurd, you know.
I call.
Unfortunately, I cannot finish the work.
What is?
I am not allowed to work your child and your mother.
Here Victor gives a phrase from which I fall into a light stupor:
The mother? What a mother? A! Mother of Vitaly? My wife? What is it?
In short, it is his wife. The Mothers! The Wife! Victor himself is clearly younger and much more sporty. Not strong in male beauty, but in terms of body structure, Victor is well folded. I think the twenty-five-year-old girl looks at him. Especially because there is something in his face from Banderas.
But in front of me is his wife, whom I have adopted as his mother, looking like a market seed trader, recently out of the third term.
The cognitive dissonance.
How there? The opposites agree? The perfect visualization.
Okay, she may be in bed a goddess and cooking brilliantly.
- The child interferes with me, falls under his hand, ticks a sword, his wife doesn't look at him, Victor, forgive me, but if something happens to Vitalik or he will shine in my eye?
He is silent, then says it will be fine, and hangs the phone. Almost immediately the phone in the room rings and his wife and Vitalka stumble there.
The baby hangs on his mother’s shoulder and his face is like this... I know how Hitler looked at his age.
The woman responds to the telephone with a shy voice:
– I’m not... He, you understand, took and... No, no, of course, Vitenka, I’m a little bit of a simple...
She ends up and goes into the kitchen, mirroring me. Vitaly will shake.
Fire, mountains clear, I think...
I am tired, I continue to work.
I finish, turn on the light, ask the woman to check, I call the owner myself, find out when he will be.
Victor responds that he is now entering the entrance.
Okay I wait.
Aunt walks around the rooms and checks all the sockets, ticks the flat and blows the switches. Vitalka drinks the morse in the kitchen, occasionally rising from behind the door with a sword in his hand. Almost an idyll.
Victor enters, examines the work, listens to my explanations, sneezes, then calls into the big room and points to the luster:
Two of the six lamps do not burn. It has changed, apparently in the ammunition. You are how? Can you fix?
He gives me money:
Hold on, count again, I hit there for harmfulness...
He dropped five hundred, which is not very much, but still.
Thank you, I don’t do anything about the lights. Easier to buy new.
Okay, I will buy it. to hang?
I have no time to answer. From the corridor are distributed fast and loud plastic cotton. I clearly understand that this is beating with a faner sword on my boxing.
The same is true - Vitalka crumbles on the plastic lid, seeing us with his father, jumping back and crumbling with all the dough on the already installed plastic shield with machines and a counter.
The third time! Fast and fast.
The sword is thick, the edges seem to be sharpened (apparently the owners themselves have already made it), a massive pen, a sharp tip. In short, this is enough to break the Chinese plastic and destroy the interior of the shield. The face panel flew away, the side wall split.
Scars fly from the box, cotton is distributed and lights are extinguished in the hallway and in the kitchen, after - Vitalik's wild whisper.
Victor roars at his son, he masks his sword into our side and runs into the room, where he is caught by a mommy, who is scared to hide inside.
Victor opened the door with a blow of his hand, I heard whispers, bullshit, a child’s scream, then a crack and a broken sword flew out into the corridor, followed by a melted helmet.
I enjoy. A chair, a puddle and a cigar. I would watch this picture for 24 hours.
The whistle is turned off after Victor’s scream: “Silence!“Then some incomprehensible noise and the master appears on the threshold.
“That’s the same,” he said, breathing hard, “what will it cost to do all that?
We go with him to the store, buy the shield again, return, change, collect everything inside, get money.
I suddenly feel sorry for Victor. He is standing like lost by the window, his face is like he is crying now.
The box covers broke, but I was silent. I’ll go home, I think.
Then comes the realization of how happy I am and with that thought I leave the apartment.
Author: Sergelektrik

After the world trip, Fedor Konyukhov was going to rest.
But Motherland said, “It’s not time to relax, Fedor! This is a robot costume.

I married early, at 23 years old, after the wedding lived for half a year in a rental apartment, then there was an acute question with housing, there were savings + wanted to take a mortgage and buy ready-made housing. But the wife's parents insisted on the construction of a new house, it was intended to take the amount more + everything they earned to invest in the construction of the house, and at this time to live with her parents, the aunt promised to help with the construction and insisted that we would live with them in a small private house. By the way, I kept the promise, it stretched for 3 years...3 years of hell. The first weeks were not bad enough, but you know that when you start living with people, you will learn about them a lot more, all the bad sides manifest especially strongly.

My husband and I had a small room in which we lived. The morning began with the fact that the aunt sharply opened the door and stared into the room with wishes for a good morning and all the same, I was in some cowards, however, as my husband. In the future it became worse, we closed the door before going to bed, and in the morning it was already opened and the waiter wished good morning, not opening the door. One night I woke up from the fact that the door was opening, opened my eyes and saw the dog enter the room and for 5-10 seconds stared closely at us. But each of them had their own cockroaches, although we lived in their house, I didn’t give it any importance.

Testi is a very characteristic person, no one trusts, impulsive, in addition, a former employee of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. He was always going through everything about me, I felt like he was watching me, there was some sort of persecution mania))). Every evening we always had a conversation with the tester and I felt like I was being interrogated, he was always asking cavernous questions, I was starting to worry, binge, talk, he was asking me more and more information.

His opinion was the most important, we always did what he wanted, he was terribly offended, if my wife and I made a decision without consulting him, he was angry.

To pay tribute to the aunt, he still helped to build the house, was so to say a breakthrough on the construction, but during this time I earned a nervous disorder exactly. He criticized my work all the time, he was always annoyed by the way I breathe, how I sneeze, how I eat, that I sit in the toilet for a long time, and so on. The guys were a gesture, every morning they woke up at 5 a.m. and walked past the room, doing their business, not trying to hide the noise, why I never slept.

The Wife had 2 sisters, both were with children, so while the husbands were at work, they came every day with the children and behaved like at home, could open the door to our room, and there I was myself (because I work with the schedule of the day after two) the husband was at work with the usual daily schedule. I have repeatedly said that I am disturbing them.

Fuh, he said, it became easier. From all this I concluded that living with my parents while married is a gesture because it is the direct path to divorce. Also, if you make an offer to a child with a spouse to live with you, you need to realize that you need to be responsible for your decisions and not show dissatisfaction from living together! Sorry for the bump, thank you all for your attention.

A few years ago moved to a young man, he as a real single man lived without a kitchen, no kitchens, dishes, etc., he is a man of the military, constantly at work, home only to sleep.

I bought the apartment in 15 years, made repairs, floors, ceilings, walls, everything is fine, the living room and bedroom are fully ready, but the kitchen with the bathroom hands did not reach, and "and so will come down."

At first, I was cooking on one electric tiles, soap dishes in the bathroom, which did not fit in my head at all.

Gradually began to move the matter of installing the kitchen from a dead point, here it is worth remembering that it is constantly busy, therefore all the work I control, I also observe the installers, I look at what and how.

I bought all the kitchen appliances, dishes, etc., made measurements, ordered the headset, marked deadlines, I took the weekend and had two days as fun as I could under the constant noise and mat of installers in the kitchen.

I always understand people who do their work, I try to do my best not to interfere, not to meet and not to get in the eye, they ultimately work. On the contrary, think about what I can help them, tobacco, tea, coffee, even sandwiches made in advance to make people comfortable and enjoyable.

The guys finished the installation in two days, everything was done well, I was happy, they, hopefully, too.

A little later decided to order the doors to the bathroom and toilet, I was again challenged to control everything, especially since last time everything went perfectly.

According to the old scheme, everything frozen, ordered, determined with deadlines, I sit and wait.

Nothing predicted trouble, but the beginning became promising, the man who brought the doors, knew in advance that we live on the fifth floor and the elevator we do not have, but this did not prevent him every time, entering the apartment with a new "portion" of tools and component doors, to tell me everything he thinks about this order. Well, maybe his day is tough, I calmly said that if something is needed let him go.

I was watching television, he was constantly drumming something and quarrelling, the outrage was heard even behind the bull of instruments and the noise of the film.

When he finished, I went to check the work, asked a few questions, why this is so, and so on. And then there was just an explosion, he said that he would not explain anything to the girlfriend, once he did so, so it is necessary that it is not his job to check and the housewife I generally like myself, the coffee I made is more like a snack, and in general, normal men don't make them.

His biggest mistake was that I had not yet signed the acts of acceptance of works, and after such a fierce speech, I did not plan to do this at all, I replied to him "not a grandmother's thing" and calmly asked to leave the apartment. I was very scared, but I stood and was as restless as possible. After asking me to leave, I opened the door and invited him out with a gesture, but he was just standing in the hallway and trembling of anger. I began to carry tools to the staircase cage, and he was just standing and holding the papers, it was visible that he was not going to leave and just now will break out of anger and I can get into the epicenter of this disaster and suffer. I offered him to wait for the man and solve all matters with him, but not in my house. He eventually left the apartment and sat on his tools for a few more hours, waiting for my husband to come.

The story ended well, my young man pointed out to him the same shortcomings as I did, but asked to appoint another day to remedy those shortcomings, and, of course, another master. I called the office of the company that deals with the doors and asked to take action against this employee, I don't know if he stayed there to work, but all the shortcomings were quickly and calmly removed by another worker.

What I mean, people are different, there are customers who will eat your brain, and there are workers, masters, etc., with whom it is better not to deal.

More positive and good people in your life.

My husband and I moved a month ago to a rental apartment in a "model" house. A panel that is 30 years old in the bedroom area. When they chose it was very undercover that the territory was fenced, made an internal parking lot, lawn, shops new, all the business. UFC is trying.

After a couple of days we realized that in this "model" house 90% of the population are retired))) Honestly not the best neighborhood, I will tell you. Old age must be respected and all things, but old age, unfortunately, does not respect us and all these cute grandmothers (grandparents remain aside as spectators) decided that a young family couple is not suitable for them in the neighborhood.

After a week, I go home from work. I come home from 7 to 8 p.m. and my husband comes from 9 to 10 p.m. We are very few at home and try to go to the village on weekends, or my husband works on weekends and I am home alone. So, I go home, in my headphones, thinking about what to cook for dinner. There is a woman standing near the elevator. I pull out the headphones, and she starts screaming at me, no, ORATH! I did not even understand at first. In general, it turned out that this woman is the head of the house and all week she receives complaints on us from ALL the neighbors from the upper and lower floors. I told her at first that she probably was wrong. It didn’t happen to us at home, and she wanted to go back to the elevator, as she grabbed my hand and began to prove that it was us who complained. And they complain about the fact that we are infinitely drilling and drilling. Oh, in another person’s apartment, which we rent, we drill and drill 24 hours a day. In addition, we flooded the neighbor from below and she was so upset that she had to call an ambulance, and we were such dwarfs, did not open the door when we were called into the apartment. To my words that we did not open because we were not at home, the woman did not pay any attention at all and continued to express her dissatisfaction with our arrival in this house at the speed of the light. At one point I got tired and I said I was ready to walk around all the neighbors, look in the eyes and ask if we really drill and if we really melt. And you know what? No one opened. We went through 6 apartments and none opened! Okay, I left the phone number and said they would call me and I will deal with the one who complains.

This adventure is not over. A couple of days later, the housewife of the apartment came, hysterically, allegedly, showing what you sprinkled here and where the water you poured all. I calmly took her around the apartment where nothing was found and made her green tea. We sat down, we talked, it turned out that we were complaining that we smoked on the balcony, and also we talked loudly and that my husband coughed loudly in the morning and it is still very late to knock on our door (we come home at 11 and 12). In short, we are terrible and disturb everyone and no one lives from us. The owner seemed to have made 2 and 2 and had no claims to us. Then, periodically, the neighbor on the left caught me and expressed her ills.

A few more days have passed, a hot day, a little wind on the street, a weekend, we sit in the evening on the balcony with my husband, talking about this. Here from the neighboring balcony begins or, something like, and how long will you talk here? I will call the housewife! To be honest, I was bombarded. Still, we pay money for an apartment where you can’t walk, talk, open the door and nothing at all! I began to scream in response that I would call the police at least and that she got me and I will do whatever I want in my house. My husband tried to reassure me and that now I am ridding myself, but I was already cared, I was ready to get stuck with this woman, because she has been drinking my blood slowly for almost a month. Five minutes later, the owner of the apartment calls. I took the phone and started the first one. She expressed her dissatisfaction and that at the conclusion of the contract no word was said about the troubled neighbors. Here she admitted that the previous tenants came together precisely because they did not endure strife with the neighbors. Oh that is what. In general, I also stumbled on the hostess and told her that in a week I am going on vacation and actually all two weeks I will drill, bowl, bowl, turn on porn, bring friends who will roast like horses and arrange ALL "paradise life". The next day the hostess came and we went to the neighbors. The hostess tried to explain something unclear, what the neighbor was shouting, that she would call the police and everything here. I was once again removed from all this. I entered into the conversation and said that my husband and I were going to take a mortgage and that if she did not leave us alone, I would buy this apartment and when I became a full-fledged tenant of the house, she would not know the salvation from me, that I would go to the decree, I would give birth every year to small handsome children, I would have a dog, or maybe even two, who would laugh and lick under the cry of my children, and I would at this moment learn to play the piano, because it is the dream of my whole life. And you know what? It worked! She was psychotic and knocked the door. And I calmly breathed, because for a week no one has ever approached me, did not call, and they are by the side at all. I think that if the grandmother again has an attack of dissatisfaction with our family, then I will start to scare the mess and the hell, I think of learning something in Latin))

Such things, sometimes you have to act radically, not everyone can agree on peace.

I think it turned out to be a bit tumultuous, I wrote straight in emotions, as I remember this, as in a shake takes from rage.