Going to the gym is very tired. It is much easier to learn to close your eyes when you walk by the mirror naked.

The homeland is filled with promises of a long and rich life.

There was nothing entirely civil in the USSR. Our industry NIH in this sense was no different from the others: formally civilian, in fact - one CIA knows which. And, accordingly, we had a mandatory character in this case - Representative of the Customer. He is a colourful man with a typical Southern Russian language. I had little direct communication with him from my youth and from the modesty of my rank, but during his conversations with colleagues and superiors I was present from time to time.

* * * *

Demonstrate the R&D results. Our staff proudly stated:

Well, you see, in principle, we all work!

Comrade engineer, you should not work in a princess, but in a coat!

* * * *

We fail. The word “totally”. And in the army, as you know, it is better to do once in time than ten times right. The Director is justified:

We will do everything in our power. You know: people are ready to work overtime and go out on weekends. Someday we will get it...

Comrades, there are different opinions about this, but I think there should be no place for a feat in civil life. And if the case was brought to mass heroism, then the fighters, of course, should be rewarded for this, but their commanders should be given to the trial.

* * * *

The use of new components in the "product" requires agreement with the Representative of the Customer.

very much need. A lot of problems can be solved in one step. You agree?

Who is the manufacturer?

and Tbilisi.

and wait. First we ask for the test results. The reliability of the product must be confirmed documentally, by specific figures. Don’t waste your time, look for other solutions.

In a few days it will appear in our laboratory. The sight does not predict anything good. He throws a paper on our boss’s table.

Did you ask? Soon after, the telecast arrived. Read loudly, so that all your archers will hear!

-- X-M-M: "In response to your outgoing number 12345 we communicate: in the reliability of our products you can not doubt the TCHK"

Well, fellow engineers, do you have any more questions? I told you right away: don’t waste your time, look for other solutions!

* * * *

Is he alive now? I doubt that the missiles have fallen too often.

Listening to the Minister’s speech – it turns out, the police REALLY throw drugs!!! I thought they were deceiving.

I got to another interview in a new city for myself with the help of a navigator on the phone. He found the building safely, put his phone in his pocket. I went up to the right floor, waited for HR at the reception, went with him to the office, where two of my future bosses were waiting. Normally they sit at the table on one side, the chair on the other side for me. I pass, sit in front of me and... out of my pocket the navigator solemnly declares: “You have come!“”

In general, the interview started with a positive, to this work and arranged later.

Before elections your voice is important, after elections your silence.

Knowledge is not superfluous.
(The written truth)
Fiction is clever.

Stories by Travel1980

In the early 90s, when the shops were empty, my salary of the chief physician was 140 rubles, the sanitary -80, the cleaner in the neighboring factory received 350, and her male worker 700, to feed the family and the hospital team, I began to engage in a business - the hospital medicine.
By the mid-1990s, I had 38 pharmacy kiosks across the city.
Feeding it feeds, but the competition was strong, and suppliers after the “black Tuesday” merchandise only paid in advance and for dollars released, inflation of 100-200% per year was a common phenomenon, credit was taken under 300-320% per year or 25% per month, and thoughts about where/what/how to buy and sell were constant.
In the summer, at the exchanges where I was a broker, I got stuck with the owner of the stock exchange and, at the same time, the co-owner of the largest private oil campaign.
Andrei "shared the sadness": after the processing of oil in addition to light oil products remains, including oil. They can be melted, there are boiler boilers on oil, but in the summer it is not needed by anyone, and its excess is simply poured to the ground, in open tanks, about ecology and other things, then nobody even remembered.
I offered him a deal, which seemed to me to be quite adventurous, and he took and agreed not to trade.
(It must be understood that the 94-99s were the height of non-payments, there were no turnover funds, no taxes were paid; there were no wages, and not only budgeters; there was nothing to buy drugs-bints-apparatus in hospitals; the financial mechanism did not work.
Factories and merchants exchanged everything: fabrics for fire cars, cigarettes for bricks, bicycles for potatoes, wages issued with the same bicycles or potatoes.
In order to provide some kind of cash flow, large firms issued their "value papers", bills. They went with different discounts - for a paper with a nominal value of one million rubles, you could get from 800 to 100 thousand dollars, or even a hole from the bucket, depending on the reliability of the firm. Someone changed the bills for goods, someone tried to impose them on the state instead of taxes, the state stood back, because it could not issue a salary or buy medicines for the bill.)
In short, I took a commodity loan from Andrey until the end of the year in the form of oil loans, with the condition of paying the bills of his own firm, and by the nominal.
The first railway staff, about 60 tanks of oil, if I remember correctly, I got three days later.
Immediately he sent it to Borovsk, to a glass factory, where the production furnaces were melted all year round with oil.
When the composition arrived at the factory, the factory sent me wagons of 20 wire, long glass tubes from which ampoules for liquid medicines are made.
These 20 wagons of wire went to three different pharmaceutical plants with ampule production, and soon I became the owner of five wagons already with medicines.
But the range of medicines, of course, was not rich, who needed a whole wagon of saline, for example, and I transferred three wagons to Moscow to major foreign drug distributors, exchanging their Russian ampoules (which they needed for females) for a good range of tablet drugs.
Of the three wagons of different medicines available to me, I delivered two to the regional health department, whose head barely kissed my hands, because I not only provided the medicines of the regional hospital, but also agreed to take in payment not the money he did not have from the word "in general", and no one needed the bills of the company of Andrey, which the regional health department gave from the generosity of his regional finance department.
With these most received bills, I completely settled for the oil, and the last wagon of medicines, that is, my profits in the form of a commodity price, put into my own pharmacies.
I immediately sold them with a discount of 30-40% of the market (in fact, the retail I had was a plan-loss link, providing, at the same time, a real profit for the entire scheme), the drugs flew away like hot cakes, and for cash.
With this living money I continuously paid salaries to my employees even in the most difficult years.

A year around 97 magazine "Glass of Russia" called my firm "one of the largest manufacturers of medical glass in the country"))

Ten years later, receiving a higher, already economic, education in the state university, I was summoned to the chairman of the commission, a professor from another region, a gallbladder.
I didn’t like something at once, he needed a long time, that I didn’t know the subject, that I didn’t answer in the textbook, that everything was not right in life, and he said something about tolling schemes. It’s not Toling at all, but I told him about this combination.
Do you know what was his only question?
No, not about the economy and not about the marginality of each stage.
“How did you know that you need a lot of oil to make glass?”

Well, shit, no matter what, after school I went to work as a slasher.
to the factory.
of course glass)

Apparently, my neighbor instead of the apartment got a concrete cube, from which he is now using a perforator trying to make an apartment.

A colleague told me. The girl was in the hospital after the accident. Only allowed to enter the chamber, as her boyfriend literally inscribed there. Typical rocker: hair, hair, music, corresponding to the naishnikov. On the day of her service, the girl recovered. The next scene. The patient opens her eyes, smiles, looks at the guy and says, “Am I in heaven?” The rocker answered, “No. I am here.”

I go to work. I pass by the bus stop. A man holds a 4-5 year old son in his hand.

The dialogue I heard:

Son (excited): And in general... I’m the chief, you hear? I am!

Father (in a calm voice): Well, if you are the chief, you will buy a gift for yourself.

5 Second Pause: You are the chief.

I came to wash the car. Next to two mouths. One “Slavian”, the other “Middle Asian”.

This was later explained to me when the Uzbek guy started washing my car.

I went out, sat on the bench, waiting.

A medium-sized uncle is suitable:

This is where you put the car...

In the sense of these?

With the non-Russian

I don’t care who washes my car. I am not a supporter of nationalism.

Not nationalism, of course. Why not let them earn their own?

Are you yours?

and yes. I am a Christian. I work in a neighboring house.

A competing company. Bezenchuk and his sons. Marketing is shit.

What kind of sons? What marketing?

and none. I am not a Slav.

And who?? to

What is the difference? How much does it cost to wash? The sedan?

Six hundred

They have four hundred. What are you doing with your two hundred pounds of excess?

Okay I understood...

has gone. I was offended. My own shit.

It was in 1 course. When I went to the hostel, my grandmother brought me cakes. The next day, after a couple, I was met in the hallway by a neighbor with a frightened face. Next I am I, the neighbor:

I. What is it?

C. Yesterday your neighbors served me cakes, and when I ate a couple of pieces, they said that they were with hormones, said specifically for you. You have problems with hair growth. That from them grows the beard, the moustache and the voice grows rough. Is it true?

I am. (According to the neighbors, she simply took the cakes on the table without permission. I am also a fan of it (Yes. The Truth. (I told her something about my slow hormone production process)

C. And what should I do?

I. I do not know. Buying a shave?

Conversation is over. This situation made us in a mood for the whole night. The next day, I decided to tell her the truth (not to take other people without asking). She believed the truth not immediately, thought I was reassuring.

My grandmother’s cakes were cakes.

We don’t have a lunch area at work, so we have lunch at work. And in order not to confuse customers when they approach, we clean the food tanks under the table. I sit at home, I eat. A girl comes in, looks at me with a shocked look and asks:

You are what?

- Habit, fucking... - I say, pulling out the plate from under the table...

A few days ago, my grandparents (they are 70 years old) went to the hospital for injections, further from their words.

The first to the office went grandfather, put an injection in a vein, immediately the doctor comes out and says another man can go in.

There were no men in the line and the doctor said to come in to the one who is not embarrassed.

Grandma went in, the injection put in the buttock straight against grandfather.

Grandfather looks at her, and the grandmother with the words look me not sorry, turns and drops her pants for the injection, and the grandfather with a serious face, silenced for a couple of seconds and sadly said: shameless.

The doctors began to look around in confusion, a little later the grandmother told them that it was her grandfather.

I worked in a large production. The area is not small, passing alone. The transmission mode - electronic passes and helicopters. Later than 8 you will not enter, before 17 you will not leave (except for the bosses).

I am going to leave the workshop, the time is 16-50, just ten minutes to get to the passageway. My colleague is not in a hurry, I tell him go, time is gone. He answered me:

“No, I’m delaying, I don’t want to watch the zombies.

He went to the cigarette.

I think what are the zombies? I approach the passageway, I look at the clock, fucking, I reached too fast, I dropped the speed to the minimum, and then I got there. Everything is exactly the same, slowly, barely rearranging the legs from different paths and paths flowing to the passageway, pulling the time, before 17 still do not pass. There are many, and they are becoming more and more. The picture is awful, well one in one of the mansions of evil or walking dead.

On the subject of the fact that dogs get used to the owner, and cats to the place can be discussed endlessly. I will try to convince you. By the will of fate, I had to take a cat to me for PMJ after the death of my relative. The cat is wise and I have known it since childhood. At some point, my wife and I noticed that the puffy tail got into the depths of the closet, buried in the depths of the clothes and didn’t get out of there for hours. After a thorough investigation, we established the cause of the strange behavior of our guardian. The whole thing is that in the innermost of the closet was found the sweater of the previous owner... The cat missing a loved one completely plunged into the smell of a lost forever friend. Now the gun has its own basket with a wool sweater bed.

Take care of your loved ones.

I go to work with my father in the shop. At the same time there was my future husband, whom my father asked to help. I went through the workshop, I see: he is working on the crusher, he does not see me. I approached him and kissed him a bit for the pop. He jumped back with large wild eyes and a stick in his hands. I ask, “You are what?” He was shocked: "There were only me, your father and two brothers of Sidov. I was wondering which one of them would have to get rid of.”

In the 1990s, the cemetery was covered by bandits. In the zero are mentions. The 10th is covered by the FSB.
Well, in the twentieth years, God himself ordered to take the staff of the administration of the president.

According to a familiar doctor.

Each of the doctors working in the clinics encountered such a person as: "I know everything myself, and you are stupid, and I will tell you how to treat me." At the same time, these characters are "prescribed" in the clinic and go there almost every day.
So one day such a patient took out a respected doctor in years. The doctor, by the way, was the charm and politeness. Patients have always (well or almost always) been sincerely grateful to him. The doctor, having had to listen to the "personage", her endless "all the thieves are doctors around, nobody knows how to treat and does not want to," - did not stand and openly sent to x#@. The person was naturally upset to the depths of the cockerel by such a statement and she immediately ran with a complaint to the chief doctor. This dialogue took place in the headquarters:

A person from the threshold of transitioning to ultrasound: - Do you know what your doctor permitted?! to
The doctor-in-chief said, “I’m sorry, but I’m absolutely sure that Dr. K. couldn’t do anything damnable – that’s Dr. K!
The person, clutching from the overwhelming feelings: - This is your K... He... He... He sent me to x#@!! to
The doctor answered surprisedly and upsetly: - And you decided that it was here?! to

As a teenager, you think that one day you will meet someone special, and by 30 you realize that you are special. Normal are few.