He was transferred to another club at the request of his director.



Clients are unfamiliar, among them a very beautiful tuned girl with an unhappy face. The complaints started immediately.

First she was hot, then cold, then the music was too loud, then she began to smell the carpet, as a result, changed it.

He looked at me critically and said:

Have you ever taught yoga before? What shit are we doing?

This is Janu Shirshasana.

I have bad news for you, it’s not her.

Why do we argue that this is she?

was silent. In five minutes:

Do you know that you are a bad expert? No is? Then I have bad news for you.

Either we work or we do not interfere with others.

was silent. The group is pretty strong, the girl is nothing, when I start giving relatively difficult things, she gets worse. As a result, she became psychotic and left, knocking the door.



After training, he waits for me in the hallway.

Go to the director, he has bad news for you.

I come in, the director smiles. I am :

Max, there is a girl.

"Don't pay attention, this is our VIP client, comes once every three months, takes a one-off class, goes to a random coach, then catches a complaint and brings us the brain. We call it bad news.

What did you want to be when you were a kid? She asked.

The engineer. I wanted to create something that people have not yet invented.

There were not many toys in my childhood. There was a broken chair, a telephone tube with a broken wire and an isolant.

What did you imagine when you played? Interest was awakened in her eyes.

With the help of an insulator, I attached the telephone to the chair and thought it was a time machine.

And how? She works? She asked with a smile.

Yes, every time I remember it.

A wonderful story about how to work with the gentleman. and organs. A few years ago, one company decided to make several additional shopping points in the city. But since it was associated with a large official haircut, they decided to take a special person. He posted an advertisement in the newspaper about the vacancy and waited. For a long time no one went, because the salary was promised poor. And suddenly! There is a real “fool” (there is such a disease). The director grabbed his head at first, he said to the guard, “You, my brother, who are you letting go?” And then, well, post Vasya, you have a paper for the test, try it in San. Inspection to break. He returned in about an hour with a signature paper. As it turned out later, he did not follow any rows. He came to the inspection and - immediately into the office without any turn. The people were not even upset, but were eagerly waiting for what would happen. First a shock, then a scandal. Debbie monotonously said the same phrase: "Chef, sign, or I will not be given money, and I want to eat..." and began to shake the back of the chair... Then he was all signed, and he pleased to go under the triumphant views of visitors...

When I was a teenager, I underwent a knee surgery. The doctor brought me a flommaster and told me to mark the right knee with a circle, and the second with a cross, and then left the room. I did everything exactly as he said.

And then he evened the arrows to the circle and wrote "Operate here", added more crosses on the other knee and the inscription "Do not touch". From boredom, I spent the next half-hour painting my own body and leaving messages like "I won't give the Appendix," "What did I do? The knee is below.” I even asked my mom to write something on my back like, “If you’re reading this, it’s not that side. Turn it.”



When the anesthesiologist appeared, I had time to cover up with a prosthesis. They told me that I was carrying all the nonsense before turning off, but that’s a different story. The operation went well and I had to stay in the hospital for the night. Later, the doctor came to see me and told me how I managed to break the schedule of the operation.

In general, when the staff removed the slide and read the same notes, everyone cried, not stopping, for ten minutes. Finally, having calmed down, with great difficulty taking themselves into their hands, they began to turn me over to put me on the operating table... And then they saw the last inscription...

As a result, the operation started half an hour later than planned, and all because of my love of drawing.

Three stages of the car:

a) to purchase a car;

B is a car. The class!

C. I sold the car. What a happiness!

I have a good, non-intellectual job.
To get my profession, it is enough to complete monthly courses, and then the main thing is to be punctual and not smell afterwards. In short, I am a coach.
A few months ago, the club changed the bosses, a new lady every month comes up with new improvements, which are mainly about reducing the salary: now the salary is black, removed the bonuses, imposed fines.
After every new introduction, if someone roared, he received a moral teaching in the sense of "a lot of you such", "a row for every place in hats", "not like - free."
I would like to write that everyone left and the club went bankrupt, but in our area the crisis is now, in other clubs the situation is worse, they can just throw away with the salary, so nobody left, they fell, but somehow reconciled with the "new meth".
The hardest thing was to endure the arrogant-disregarding attitude from the series "you are nobody and call you no way," "I said you will go out at 10, so you will go out," "which means sick to be at work, unfortunately."
Once she learned about my past life and asked for contact teaching German for her husband. I gave her a few contacts of cool teachers, the best in their field in our city.
He calls me in a couple of hours in anger:
April and no others.
These are the best.
Can you not yourself?
- No, I'm not doing this right now (and even if I did, I't do it with your husband).
They behave completely incorrectly. They fuck me! I tell them Monday-Thursday at 19, they say that these days only 22 are free. I say on Saturday at 15, they say on Saturday I don’t work, what nonsense? Do they provide services or are they bullied?
Welcome to the world of demanding people, shit.

If you’ve worked all your life, that doesn’t mean you’ll be guaranteed old age. For us in Russia this does not mean anything at all, except that you have worked all your life.

In my first vacation by car, I, travelling through Yekaterinburg, lost myself and went to some garages where men were sitting and crawling. Five years later, I went through Yekaterinburg again and lost myself again and went to the same garages. Who did I see in the garage? Sitting and cuddling men. And I think they are the same. Before asking the road again, I told them about this case. No muscle on the face trembled in the harsh garage alkasha with dim eyes. They said yes, they’ve been there for a long time.

It is in youth to break up with anyone - it hurts, with age, the breakup with nonsense begins to bring joy.

Once I was in Almaty, working on an exhibition. I did not see the sights, there was a lot of turmoil, from morning to night, I walked in the pavilion, ate there. Feeding, I have to say, well, a large bowl of fat flour, cakes of all kinds, compot. And all this cost less than a hundred rubles a day, and apples are generally free - eat as much as you can.
But now the exhibition is over, the exhibits are packed, there is half a day free.
- And what is so important in Kazakhstan, without which it is impossible to leave, given that I already have a green tube? I ask the locals.
The Bechbarmak! “The truckers shouted and they all showed me their dark fifths, Beshbarmak!
To find the best restaurant of national cuisine I commissioned a taxi driver. We drove on an endlessly long boulevard, three-digit numbers flashed on the houses, then we turned out on the street, and again we drove long, long.

It seems to be permission to hunt with a bow and arrows and it is that technological breakthrough that has been talked about so much.

I have a good, non-intellectual job.

To get my profession, it is enough to complete monthly courses, and then the main thing is to be punctual and not smell afterwards. In short, I am a coach.

A few months ago, the club changed the bosses, a new lady every month comes up with new improvements, which are mainly about reducing the salary: now the salary is black, removed the bonuses, imposed fines.

After every new introduction, if someone roared, he received a moral teaching in the sense of "a lot of you such", " a row for every place in the hats", "I don't like - free."

I would like to write that everyone left and the club went bankrupt, but in our area the crisis is now, in other clubs the situation is worse, they can just throw away with the salary, so nobody left, they fell, but somehow reconciled with the "new meth".

The hardest thing was to endure the arrogance-disregarding attitude from the series "you are nobody and call you no way", "I said you will go out at 10, so you will go out", "which means sick to be at work, unfortunately".



Once she learned about my past life and asked for contact teaching German for her husband. I gave her a few contacts of cool teachers, the best in their field in our city.

He calls me in a couple of hours in anger:

April and no others.

These are the best.

Can you not yourself?

- No, I'm not doing this right now (and even if I did, I't do it with your husband).

They behave completely incorrectly. They fuck me! I tell them Monday – Thursday at 19, they say that these days only 22 are free. I say on Saturday at 15, they say on Saturday I don’t work, what nonsense? Do they provide services or are they bullied?



Welcome to the world of demanding people, fuck.

In a dispute of two, a third is needed to dissolve them.

I go home after hard work. Transfer in the subway, the train arrives, I get into the wagon, the doors start to close. And suddenly, at the last moment, a girl jumps. I look and I can’t believe my eyes. This is my ex. Well, not directly the former-ex, there were just some short and unclear relationships, then themselves and collapsed. I was thrown out a barrel of complaints, said, I do not meet high standards, and I quoted the classic, in the spirit that your expectations are your problems. They separated like ships in the sea. This is such a meeting!
Well, whoever remembers the old, the eye out. We talked, I missed my stop, arrived at her station, called to go. On the road, suddenly a bar. We went, of course, to drink a shock. Then on the long, then led her home, offered to get up, I did not refuse, home, respectively, did not go. They drank all night and shake the old man. In the morning, when I was already calmed down and thought to sleep, I was put outside, saying, Mom soon from the night will come back, you need to be here.
I stand, almost sober, sleepy until dawn, at the hours without fifteen six, at nine for work. It was good to go in the shower. I understand that if I go home, it will be stupid; an hour home, 40 minutes home and it is time to go to work. I decide not to move around here, to rush into the office right away. We have there, opposite the office of the gentrior, a great couch stands, I have keys, a clock, or even one and a half, to sleep. Said is done. I came to the office, picked up somewhere, wrapped up in it, lay down and turned off. Only the thought turned - it is a pity that sleeping so little, I will not spit out...
And here I sleep desperately, I dream strange dreams. And right in the dream comes the realization that somehow suspiciously long I sleep. I open my eyes, all so excited and relaxed. At 12 o’clock, around, with echoes, colleagues sneeze, and I am lying without pants in the middle of the office, covered with a pledge.
I jump up, dress up, climb up to our office manager, saying what is happening. Ta replies that when she came, I calmly snorted on the couch, and the gentleman was sitting in his office and whispered on everyone so they didn’t noise and let me sleep. I then worked as a sysadmin, everyone thought that I was working again at night, I did important things for the company, and the gender protects me.
The word “confusion” only very approximately describes my state at the time. With mixed feelings, I touched the gender. He smiles like his father, pouches me a piece of some fashionable cognac, tells me that when he came and saw me, he immediately remembered his youth. But if he repeats again, he will be fired, even without waking up. Gold was human.

Citizen, go here
And you are who?
I am an officer of the Rosgard.
Please show me the documents.
I do not have to show up and present documents.
I am also an officer of the Roosevelt.
Show me the documents!
I am not obliged!

So sweetly smiled that it immediately became clear: now money in debt will ask.

During the Tsarist era, before the Revolution, Balaklava was not a district of Sevastopol, but only a small resort and fishing town 10 kilometers from the city. There lived and worked for a long time the great Russian writer Alexander Kuprin.
In Balaklava still stands his house and it is considered the home-museum of the great Russian writer Alexander Kuprin.
The local population, mostly the Greeks, to whom he devoted the story "Listrigons", loved the writer very much and he was very often drunk with the fishermen in the Balaklava cockroaches. One day, having gained a lot of local wine, Kuprin sent the tsarist minister Stolypin a telegram about the following content:
Balaklava is separated from the Russian Empire, becomes an independent republic, introduces its army and navy, as well as its money stamps and laws.
Signature: Free residents of Balaklava.
After reading the text of the telegram, Stolypin, knowing who is behind the signature "Free inhabitants of Balaklava", did not get offended and sent a telegram of the following content:
“Kuprin, when you drink – eat!
The signature is “Stolypin”.

Why does Soloviev not criticize Medvedev?
Uncomfortable, he is still a neighbor in a villa in Italy.

I was 5 years old. So it happened that my dad loved plov and often cooked it, but I, on the contrary, hated this dish with all my soul. And in general, getting me to eat was a rather difficult task. And one day, my father and I had this dialogue (further P-papa):

Do you want soup?

I : No.

Q: Why is it?

I: It is not delicious.

Q: And the salad?

I : No. I do not like.

P: Then I’ll make a shit for you tomorrow.

I (with an upset sight) what, again flooded what? by : (

P.S. I love to swim.

My husband has a friend, everyone calls him the dead man. I wondered where this nickname came from. The words of my husband. Leha lived in the village with her mother, an alcoholic. He looked after her and tried to cure her alcohol dependence. He had to work wherever he could, only to make money to code his mother from alcohol. He abandoned school, unloaded cars, and worked on construction. He collected money and took his mother to town. They coded. It wasn’t over a month, and she was again for a glass. Lecha could not withstand, was psychotic and left the city at night. No one year, two. I thought the building collapsed. There was no mother or business. I did not sweat. Three years later, a young man’s body was found in the forest. The mother recognized her son. Buried the boy. Neighbors gave her money. And she is happy. I did not drink vodka for breakfast. All of his large composition of alcoholics were drunk. There is no money left for the monument. The neighbors then photographed themselves and placed a cross. A year later, Leah returns from the city. It turns out that the guy has found a good job, even rents a room in the city, enrolled in part-time training. He did not use his documents anywhere after his arrival, nor did he know that he was buried long ago. In the village, as they saw a living boy, and even in the light in everything (it was summer), they barely rolled away. Since then they have been called dead.