Tatiana Slutskaya
Look here, Barbara! - my husband exclaimed one day and, grabbing my hand, pulled me out onto the balcony. - No, you look!
I turned my head to find out - where does the wind of such violent indignation blow?
But everything was as usual: the universe stretched around with a yellow sun, an immense sky and a local laundromat. Where, you ask, to look?
Can't you see, woman? - continued to go crazy husband. Are you blind as a mole? Is there nothing there that grabs your attention?
I started looking around again: where is it? Convinced of my absolute stupidity and having expressed everything he thinks about this, he finally butted his head in the direction of the house opposite:
Do you see that last balcony on the sixth floor, poor thing?
And what do you see there?
Well, something light is hanging, it seems to be drying ... He smiled sarcastically and said:
And why on earth should your things hang out on someone else's balcony? - I was indignant. - Yes, even in the house opposite?
But he didn't hear me anymore. He stood with his ears wide open angrily, and groaned:
Ooo! Someone's holy female industrious hands got up at the crack of dawn to wash it all to a diabolical whiteness! They rinsed, starched! And then the same hands will take everything off and take it to the house - boiled, smelling of the morning wind, and not the district laundry. Then they will drive with an iron for a long time, smoothing out every crease ... People are lucky! No, you understand, unfortunate, that these are not just shirts! This is a man-made symbol of her boundless love! Her devotion! Women's dedication, finally!
I, finally, also could not stand it and rushed away from the balcony, not forgetting to slam the door. Please! If, in proof of boundless love, you have to hang around at the trough for half your life, I can! And, spitting on all the radiant Saturday plans, she got up to the trough ...
When the evening sun disappeared behind the horizon, he remembered me and brought a sandwich with sprats:
Stop it, Barbara! Eat... and... we wanted to go to the movies, I think? Finish this minute, I got the tickets!
But I continued defiantly rubbing his blue-striped dress shirt, which, after my boiling, turned snow-white, but all the others acquired an unpleasant shade with bluish stains.
The husband was the first to notice this gray-brown shade.
My shirts! he cried. - Horrible!
Of course, we didn't go to the cinema. For obvious reasons.
I sat buried in the book "Helpful Advice", not forgetting to jump out onto the balcony in the hope of finding in front of that ideal woman with golden hands - the personification of devotion. Maybe she'll come up with something, figure out how to save me and his shirts...
But all expectations were in vain: the ideal woman never appeared. I don't even know what she did there. Maybe she was spinning yarn, or maybe she was knitting woolen wristlets for her lucky man. In any case, I did not see anyone on the balcony. And it is not at all clear by what miracle instead of “symbols of boundless love” a dozen terry towels and two rugs hung there, from which it was still dripping ?! Or is she an invisible person?
From that day on, I began to spend all my free time on the balcony. For convenience, I had to buy binoculars and a folding chair. Oh, how I longed to see her! Gradually it turned into a mania, an obsession. I waited...
Two weeks of careful observation yielded nothing. However, we managed to find out that my stranger is at the trough from Friday to Sunday inclusive. In addition, some details indicated that she was a coquette. Oh, what little things hung there, what frills! All the items of women's toiletry that appeared as if at the behest of a pike evoked in me a complex feeling of envy and delight ...
At the end of the third week, the husband went out onto the balcony and asked:
What are you, Varvara, completely "cuckoo"? Well, how much can you?!
Look, honey, what a pretty frilly blouse she has on," I said, holding out the binoculars.
It was at this moment that everything happened! The door on the sixth floor opened, and we saw a figure in an apron with a huge basin at the ready.
Finally! I exclaimed. - Here she is - the ideal woman, the personification of devotion, the genius of the hearth!
Meanwhile, the figure pulled off everything dry with lightning speed and began to hang everything wet with the same lightning speed.
How clever she is! I exclaimed, chasing away the tears. - And what strong hands she has, they flicker, flicker.
Give me the binoculars, I want to take a closer look... don't you think that she has a mustache under her nose?
In the second year, everyone was sent to a nearby clinic for a physical examination. All friends scattered around the clinic. I have already gone through almost all the doctors, and I have one dermatologist left. I go into the office, and there sits a very cute celestial creature that looks about 20 years old. I say hello, she, respectively, too, well, like, come in, sit down, etc. She looks at my palms, after which she says:
- Take off your pants and shorts.
Well, as they say, it's necessary, it's necessary ... I'm taking pictures. This wonderful girl with her gentle hand begins to "examine" everything that was in these trousers. The reaction of the body of an 18-year-old guy is unimaginable ...
A woman in her thirties comes to the boutique. Fashionable, well-groomed, self-confident. A bald, unsportsmanlike man in his fifties trudges behind her, wearing a gold watch on his arm. Their wedding rings are the same. So husband. Facial expression, as a husband should have in a women's clothing store. To put it mildly, sad. A woman chooses the most expensive dress, tries it on for a long time and gradually begins to moan with pleasure. The husband quickly gets tired of the moans and buys this dress, whistling softly at the price. Three thousand dollars. They are going away. The next day, this woman comes with a completely different man. M...
I’m traveling with a classmate at the university on the bus and complaining to her about interruptions in my personal life. And my friend is so businesslike, active - immediately the bull by the horns: let me take you with one of the familiar men. He takes his notepad and says: Look, here are 17, here are 18, here are 19 and a half ... I told her: oh, what are you talking about, these are just children! She looks at me with a squint and says: Stupid! It's not age, it's centimeters!.. Sitting in the next seat was silent, almost choked on a bun.
Turkish resorts among our population, who are always not paid salaries and children gnaw on window sills, are a huge success. As everyone knows, the list of services of some hotels, although I think most likely in all hotels in Turkey, and not only, includes services of a somewhat intimate nature. Well, the type they call you in the room and say "don't you want to relax?" massage, min @ t, anal-oral, etc., etc. So one evening, someone from the staff also calls the room and offers such relaxation in the form of min@ta for 100 bucks. So, to the proposal he heard, our brother replied "What a 100 bucks about ...
The hypothesis that a woman can think is not without foundation. They say that there was such a case. Once a man came home from work and wanted to eat some bread. And instead of bread, the woman shows him some completely unfamiliar ottoman - such an ugly, small one and always standing in the corner. Rubbish, like all poufs. Here the man says:
- I really want to eat bread.
And he, of course, is already looking at the ottoman, and it is clear that he wants to kill him. And his wife answers him:
- We don't have any bread.
- Why don't we have this bread?
- That's why we don't have bread, so I can buy an ottoman ...
Somehow I accidentally gave a ride to a young couple. Let's go. After a while the young man says:
- How long have you been driving?
- In general, yes.
- I only got a license for a year and a half, but I drive better.
- And how did you determine which is better?
- Well, hurry up...
- Do you think that faster means better?
- Certainly!
- And why then in Russian the words "faster" and "better" are not synonyms?
–??!!
Here, by the look of the young man, I understand that I went too far. He does not know the word "synonym". I would consider the maximum to be synonymous with "consensus" and "coitus", but I am familiar with those only by touch ...
- Not the same thing "quickly" and "x ...
It's easier for men. He either has a woman, or he doesn't... And we suffer: does he have a woman or not?..
Two men are talking:
- You know, - says one, - I now have five women at the same time. I'm tired of it, but I can't choose one. How would I weed them out?
- Eliminate the revelation - advises a friend.
How is that a revelation?
- And so: feel yourself completely free, and tell everyone everything about everyone else.
- But how will it help?
- And you try.
Their next meeting is in six months.
So how is it? Did you take my advice?
- Good advice. Thank you. When I became outspoken, two of my women immediately refused to date me. Well, okay.
It was m...
In any bar, on any day of the week, you are guaranteed to find cool beer. And you are guaranteed to meet.
If you and your friend like the same beer... That's great!
You are sure that the best beer in the world would like to get to know you better. And it takes very little money to do so.
A close relationship with beer begins within a minute of meeting. Well, unless the bartender is completely lazy.
Beer doesn't bother you having another beer. And not even one.
With every beer, you are always the first. Well, at least at the bottle - for sure.
During the evening you can try beer...
We walked here last weekend for my cousin's birthday. She rented a small room, but the common areas were there purely for one person.
During the dance, I watch my cousin slide out of the men's room. I ask her what you supposedly did in the wrong toilet? To which she replies: "Everything is normal, this is a toilet for those who are in trousers, and the other is for those who are in a dress, and I am in trousers!"
not mine...
A young pretty girl comes to get a job. Brings a resume: full name, address, etc., etc ... tra-ta-ta-tra-ta-ta ... And at the end of the summary: Hobbies: 21-10-07.
The HR manager (a guy with humor) says: “Girl, I know many men who have hobbies 90-60-90, but for a girl to have a hobby on 21-10-07, I meet for the first time. Let's say I can guess what 21 is (if we are talking about men in your resume), but I can’t even imagine what 10 and 07 are";).
The blushing girl explained that she didn’t know which hobbies to enter, and didn’t enter anything, and 21-10-07 is the date of writing the resume.
And the girl was accepted, though I don’t know how she will work in an almost entirely male team with such hobbies ...;)
So, dear girls, write honestly about your hobbies in the questionnaires, so that we, vulgar men, do not have any interesting assumptions.
Fishing store. A woman comes in and addresses the seller:
- Do you have serfs?
- ???
- Do you have slaves?
The seller, having realized what was the matter and with difficulty holding a rzhach, replies:
- Excuse me, but slavery in Russia seems to have been abolished back in 1861)))
- Oh, I must have said something wrong?
- Well, most likely they meant "echo sounders"?)))
A curtain...
I work in the theatre. Yesterday, before the start of the performance, a blonde girl came to the box office, alone, bought two tickets and sat down to wait for someone.
The performance has begun, she is still sitting in the foyer. She said she was waiting for a friend.
A friend came in an hour and a half after the start with a large bag of clothes from the boutique, raked from the waiting one, and together they went to inspect the remaining half hour of the action.
After the performance, both went to the toilet and did not go out for a long time. The ticket clerk could not stand it and went to see what happened. And nothing happened. In the middle of the theatrical toilet, both girlfriends stood in their shorts and tried on all the clothes from the bag, happily commenting.
Then they said that the performance was excellent, and left, satisfied.
When I am alone waiting for the elevator and my favorite music is playing in my headphones, I start dancing: I spin, move my booty, jump, wriggle, the elevator arrives and if there is no one there, then I enter the elevator like Michael Jackson.
Yesterday I found out that we have video surveillance.
A year ago I was in the hospital with appendicitis. They mended it properly, but the neighbors in the ward were God's dandelions - ancient grannies! So, they watched TV (I hate TV shows), took scarves / socks, cursed young people, they say, such a dissolute youth, no shame or conscience. Here we are in our time...! Etc. and so on... And with all this, they look at me (I do not hide my age - I just turned 18! Well, the guys from the course visited me regularly).
I don't know how "Speed-Info" got into the ward. Maybe one of the grandchildren brought grandmothers? I was asleep, apparently.
And so the grannies set up a reading room. How they read aloud and commented is another story. I covered myself with a blanket so that they would not see my grimaces - it hurts me to laugh! And they are "daughter, what hurts?" ...
We read until we stumbled upon an elegant word... m.n#t! All three stuck for a while, then one of them says, they say, what did she do to him? The most knowledgeable, avoiding expressions, explains, they say, uh ... this is when SHE is with a MAN, well ... how would it be ... in general ... what they do with children - licks! I felt bad - but I can’t laugh at all! And it hurts, and in front of the elders it’s somehow uncomfortable.
And then one grandmother gave out: ah-ah-ah-ah! It's clear... how many times I've done to my grandfather x@% s0s@la... it turns out I didn't do it to him! Well, the old one will come - I'll tell him!
I almost got a seam...
Dialogues with wife:
1. Somewhere in the south they saw a palm tree on which clusters of some berries grew. Interested.
I say: - Maybe it's coffee?
- What are you, a fool, or what? Coffee on a palm tree?! It's grapes.
2. I put the medicines in the refrigerator.
Where are you taking these medicines?
- It is written: "Keep in a dark, cool place."
- What are you, a fool, or what? The light is on there.
Everything is true. No, brunette.
Friends bought a car for the first time. There is no driving experience, and "impressions" from critical driving situations are added to the joy of driving.
They come to visit us in anticipation of the trip, the wives are talking in the kitchen:
- Tomorrow morning we decided to go out of town with the whole family.
- What, and take the little one?
- Of course, if something happens to us, to whom we will leave him, the orphan ...
Looks like she's not blonde ;-)
The other day...
My friend and her friend decided to have lunch in a cafe and, realizing this idea, they are walking down the street in the right direction. The acquaintance is in a very romantic mood, all sublime and spiritual, poplar fluff flies around, everything is green ... elegant .. and looking at this fluff she gives out to her friend, in a gentle and languid voice:
- Ira, is it really from this, from this very poplar fluff, that such large and beautiful trees grow?
A tall, beautiful, very effective brunette friend turns around and answers:
- Tanya, you certainly forgive! Have you seen sleep? And you would think that something like me grows out of this..
In our department, two girls signed up for driving courses at the beginning of winter. There are two weeks or a week and a half left before the long-awaited exams. The teacher who teaches them began to check the assigned material and chase our girls with questions about all the tickets.
One of them was asked about the maximum allowable steering play in passenger cars. The answers on the tickets were: 10 degrees, 20 and 30. You had to choose the right one. Her answer was that the backlash is 20 degrees, followed by a question addressed to the teacher. She asked:
- And what is this "backlash" for liquid and in what place of the steering wheel is it located?
Out of modesty, she told us that the teacher laughed a LOT at her. She explained to us that she thought since the answers were given in degrees, then at a temperature of 30 degrees the steering wheel would be hot, and at 10 it would be a bit cold, so 20 degrees for the hands would be just right. Doesn't look like a blonde...
The wife breastfed the child for 1.5 years, the other day the daughter herself stopped asking for boobs.
I come home today, on the table there is an open bottle of expensive cognac, a bottle of Pepsi, a bag of chips, Korean salads, etc. I go out to the balcony, I look - it's standing, smoking. I am shocked (wife never drank, never smoked, etc.)
Me: - Well, why the hell?
Wife (through cough, in an absolutely happy voice):
- AND BECAUSE IT IS POSSIBLE!!
The situation is funny.
I am walking down the street with a friend after work. There is a rather pretty female person. When we pass near her, she asks me if I have a pen and a piece of paper. I give.
He turns away, begins, putting a piece of paper against the wall of the house, to write the following on it: "I really liked you, call me at number: 8-..."
At this moment, I catch the eye of a friend, filled with envy and respect, conveying something like: "Well, malets!" Proudly I turn to the lady, and she returns the pen, says thank you and puts the sheet under the wiper of the parked Lexus.
Yesterday I bought my wife an expensive ring. Just like that, from an excess of feelings.
The first thing she asked: "What happened? Tell me the truth, even the worst! Stole something? Cheated on me?".
Now he is sitting in the corner, pouting, thinking that I am hiding something.
I'd rather buy her a frying pan!
NATALYUSHKA
I'm sitting at home with a broken nose. Friday night is a ready-made horror movie script. And all she did was go to pick up her son from kindergarten.
They just burned out a light bulb in their locker room. Here I go into the darkness, which after the illuminated corridor seems even darker, I move by feel to the narrow strip of light from under the door leading to the group. As suddenly I stumble upon something at the level of the belt. I feel... like a huge bag under my feet. Suddenly, the "bag" grows with a rustle, and right in front of me in the darkness, eyes flash, and then ... TEETH! Yo-mine! With a squeal that threatened to turn into an ultrasound, I jumped back to the door to the corridor, my imagination immediately outlined a monster unknown to nature.
The door, according to the law of the genre, was locked - "the demons walled it up!". And the imagination did not let up, showing me the heartbreaking scenes of the attack of a toothy monster with burning eyes. Still yelling, I leaned against the door with my shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. And then my head was visited by the sensible thought, which was not entirely appropriate in such a situation, that the door could open inwards. I jerked the handle - You're lying! You won't take it! - rushed into the opening and, having received a blow to the bridge of the nose, rolled over on her back ...
My friend’s husband pushed her in the eye in the middle of the night and said, “We sell fucking cars by CASH CLEARING!”
She didn't understand.
Here's more about him, this husband. After a particularly “lucky” night, he overslept, got dressed and rushed off to work. Coming out of the tram, he crashed - someone held him. When he wanted to figure it out, he heard from a man “Sorry guy, I accidentally stepped on your pantyhose.” He looked and found that he was wearing his wife’s jeans, who left her pantyhose in her pants and they are now dragging him and everyone is stepping on them. I had to pull out these pantyhose from below in the middle of the stop, pulling out to the great fun of a large crowd of people.
And finally, about him. He climbed in to wash and calls his wife. She comes running, and he sobs in the bath, “Marinochka, just don’t be upset, you bought a worthless shampoo” (and it was at the time of shortage of shampoo that she bought this apricot for 80 rubles). He is sitting with a disheveled head, but what the hell is on the head. She asks what is Maksik crap about shampoo, I just washed myself, I didn’t seem to notice anything. And he, they say, does not wash at all. She touched his head and it was dry in shampoo. Max says you're crazy, wet your head. And he herself went astray to her shampoo FOR DRY HAIR wet on horseradish? In general, Marina promised Maksik to buy a shampoo for oily hair, so that he would lubricate the shag with oil before washing. Now we always remember this to him, and he pushes himself away, saying that his wife invented everything. But we do know. that this joke actually happened :)
A story from the life of our dad, my husband is going to work, running around the apartment getting dressed. In the end, he dressed in a peculiar way, a T-shirt, a sweater, a down jacket and socks with slippers. In this form, I caught it at the elevator, I almost left for work without pants. The spectacle of a man in shorts and a down jacket is not for the faint of heart!
I remembered my favorite family story - the result of several sleepless nights. One day my husband worked hard and forgot that it was time to run home and let the nanny go. Quickly got ready, jumped out into the street and let's hail a taxi. And it's raining outside, all the taxis are busy. Then he ran to the nearest big intersection and started fishing there. Then he remembered that he had no cash for a taxi and rushed back to work for the money. All wet came back, borrowed money and back to the intersection to catch a taxi. Caught, came home, let the nanny go, fed the child and put him to bed. 2 hours later, I returned from work. The husband sits tired madly, going to sleep. He looks out the window and says so irritably: “Camilla, where did you park the car?” First I look out the window, then at him, then I start laughing hysterically .. He had to get dressed again and go catch a taxi in the rain to pick up the car in which he came to work in the morning :))) By the way, he has the car keys on I didn’t forget the work, I took it from the drawer and put it in my pocket before going to catch a taxi :) :) :) I couldn’t look at my husband for a few more days, I immediately started laughing.
Today, I am satisfied with a hair mask (kefir, cocoa, henna), I return from the bathroom, and my husband is sitting in the kitchen and my mask!!! eats up ((
The fact that my husband is completely ill is evidenced by the fact that he is married to me. He has some incredible amount of quirks, which eventually begin to spread by airborne droplets to relatives, friends and acquaintances.
One of these quirks is the manner of giving human names to inanimate objects. Not all, of course, but only the most deserving. And he not only baptizes them, he also talks to them.
For example, he has a favorite mug. A penguin is drawn on the mug. The penguin's name is Paphnutius.
I kind of wondered:
- And why Pafnutiy something?
My husband looked at me in surprise and asked:
- Well, how?
I thought about it and realized: really, no more.
In the morning, the husband takes Pafnutius out of the kitchen cabinet and says:
- Well, brother Pafnutiy, for a cup of coffee?
In the evenings, they drink tea with Pafnutius, and my husband complains to him about me:
“Do you see, Pafnutiy, with whom do you have to while away your life? Appreciate, brother, loneliness, do not start a penguin.
Even at the dacha we have a Bulgarian named Zinaida. Bulgarian - not in the sense of a native of Bulgaria, but in the sense of a tool for cutting metal.
At first, her husband called her Snezhana, because he believed that a Bulgarian woman must certainly have a Bulgarian name. However, having become acquainted with the character of the Bulgarian, he realized that she was Zinaida.
When you need to cut something metal, he takes it out of the barn and says:
"Zinaida, why don't we go crazy?"
And they start going crazy. And when they go crazy, he takes her to the barn, puts her on a shelf and gently says:
- Sweet dreams to you, Zina.
And in our apartment lives a closet named Boris Petrovich. That's so respectful, by name, patronymic, yes.
This is when we just bought an apartment, the first thing we ordered was a closet. And this cabinet was assembled for us by an assembler whose name was Boris Petrovich.
Of course, this fact casts a shadow of shame on my husband, but in fact there is an explanation for this.
In fact, all the rest of the furniture in our house (as well as in my mother's house, in the house of his parents and in the houses of many of our friends) was assembled by my husband himself. And the cabinet would have been assembled, just spit, but it turned out that on the day of delivery he was on a business trip and had to return only two weeks later.
I categorically refused to live for two weeks in the midst of an unimaginable number of boards and boxes, besides, I was eager to hang all the clothes on hangers as soon as possible, so I did not wait for my husband and invited a store assembler. And, of course, forty times regretted it.
The assembler Boris Petrovich, when he was going to visit me, took a bath of cologne, and with this cologne of the brand "Coniferous Forest" (or "Russian Field", or "Youth of Maxim" - I do not know) stink of the whole house. I escaped Boris Petrovich's amber on the balcony.
Boris Petrovich worked with concentration, unhurriedly, with feeling, with sense, with arrangement, with five breaks for tea drinking. He was very surprised why I did not keep him company at the table. And I just can't drink tea that stinks of cologne.
Professional Boris Petrovich, being an assembler from God, assembled a closet from 9 am to 11 pm. My husband during this time could easily build a two-story house and a sauna in the yard.
My things remained in the boxes, not knowing the chill of the hangers, because all two weeks before the arrival of my husband I ventilated the whole apartment, and the closet in particular, from the aroma of Boris Petrovich. I was even ashamed to ride the subway, because it seemed to me that this cheap, killer cologne was going from me to the whole car.
When my husband arrived, the apartment already had quite a decent atmosphere. He joyfully jumped to the new piece of furniture, yelled happily: “Oh, the locker!” - and froze, opening the door.
For about a minute he came to his senses from the stench that had washed over him, and then he asked me:
“Umm… What is this?”
“This is Boris Petrovich,” I answered.
This is how our closet got its name, and the assembler Boris Petrovich, without knowing it, became his godfather (our godfather, therefore).
Now the husband, going to some important event, consults with the closet what to wear:
— Boris Petrovich, how about a blue shirt?
Or asks:
— Could you borrow a tie, Boris Petrovich?
Or hangs a suit in it and says:
— Boris Petrovich, keep him as your honor.
We also have a coffee table Stepan.
Well, everything is simple here: we bought it disassembled, and at home it turned out that the assembly instructions were written in English and Chinese.
My husband first demanded that I read the Chinese version, then for about ten minutes he was indignant that he had married some illiterate slut who didn’t even know Chinese, and after that he graciously allowed me to read in English.
Lohushka-wife and in English, in general ... hmmm ... But something else somehow.
The instructions said "step one". Well, with my pronunciation ... In general, this is how the coffee table became Stepan.
When I look for a lighter or some magazine, my husband says:
- I do not know where. Ask Stepan.
We also have a Galya microwave. I understand that this is something personal that I do not need to know about.
Because when a husband shoves a plate of food into her and gently says: “Warm it, Galya ... Do it for me, baby ...” - all my questions get stuck somewhere in the thyroid gland.
Echoes of a romantic past, apparently.
We also have an electric stove at the dacha, which always breaks down. Her husband calls her Nadya.
When I asked why exactly Nadyusha, he replied:
- Yes, I had one ... It also broke all the time.
When he is going to fry eggs on it in the morning, he always asks:
- Well, Nadyusha, today you will finally become mine? Come on baby, give my balls a chance.
We also have Rais's ashtray. The husband claims that the fact that she is Raisa is visible to the naked eye.
When a husband wants to smoke, he says:
- Raisa, make a pleasant company.
And when something distracts him, he puts a cigarette in it and says:
- Raisa, guard.
This infection is viral in nature.
Some of our friends have Filya's TV (because it's Philips) and Anatoly's refrigerator (because it's always full of all sorts of shit, like in the pockets of Wasserman's vest).
Others called the TV lazy person Lucy, after a neighbor who, according to them, is also a lazy person.
The third has a washing machine Lyubov Petrovna. When this car was delivered to them and unpacked, their old grandmother threw up her hands and said:
- Beautiful, like Lyubov Petrovna Orlova!
And even my mother has a teaspoon named Isolde. I still don't know why Isolde. When I tried to find out, my mother looked at me like I was crazy (however, she always looks at me like that), and my husband said indignantly that he had never heard a more stupid question in his life, and that every fool understands why the spoon is called that.
I work in a large supermarket and every day I have the good fortune to contemplate the lost, randomly scurrying from section to section of men who have strayed from their wives. Waifs wander back and forth for a long time, and then, usually, they hang out in the alcohol department, where their wives catch them ...
Yesterday it was - one such man wanders around the store. Plump, bald and in a jacket (this is in the current heat!). He comes up to us - I look, and he has a red kitten in his pocket. Meanwhile the man says:
- Good girl! Help me please! We fought off my wife, and my phone also died ...
- Could you advertise for the store? Return us to the bosom of the family, please! We are sad...
Well, I suggested that he guard the kitten and explained how to get to the administration. 5 minutes later announcement:
- The lost husband Tolik was found, he looks 40-45 years old, he is crying, he does not remember his last name. Wants to drink and eat. We ask your spouse to urgently come to the administration. We're running out of beer!
Somehow my wife and I went to the market to buy something for the garden at the dacha. There was little fuel in the tank, after 20 minutes I turned to a gas station. I automatically get out of the car, I also automatically insert the gun, I stand, I refuel, I think about something of my own ...
At this moment, the wife gets out of the car to go to the toilet. I still get in the car and drive away. A couple of minutes later, the phone rings - the wife. I drop the challenge and tell my wife, “Stop fooling around! Do not distract…". The wife calls again, and I look in the rearview mirror and fall out in the sediment ...
The story is a test of the pen, the author's spelling is preserved to convey the atmosphere ...
Well, finally this event happened in my life - I bought a car. I got it, got it, but I completely forgot the driving skills, because I got my driving license a year ago and haven't driven at all since. But I still had to go, so I went, after sticking two “Beginner Driver” signs on the car so that they would drive me farther away.
So, day one. Parking. Damn, you need to leave something backwards ... Calmness, the main thing is calmness. Now I'm slowly leaving. If only to turn the steering wheel in the right direction Phew, I left. Well, as they say, let's go! It's good that the city has sparsely busy streets along which you can get to the right place quite calmly. Only here are the roads there ... Needless to say, I still didn’t go around some of the pits. Arrived! Well, then on foot, I'm afraid to go further - it's more reliable on foot. And why do I need a car, I wind up the mileage perfectly on my own two feet? In general, I try by all means to avoid hypodynamia. Everyone, it's time to go back. Damn, again go backwards, and even on the roadway. In short, blocking half the roadway, I still got out of there. Eh, why didn’t they really teach us how to park in a driving school and, most importantly, how to get out of the parking lot? Made it home without incident. Well, the first day is over. Driving again tomorrow...
Second day. Parking. Back out again. Today is already easier. I arrived, parked, and again went to wind up the mileage. Moreover, she wound it so diligently that she even lost the heel on her shoes. Yes, you need to move on. Opa, and then I blocked the way for a peasant who is leaving. No, I can't leave. Man, help me! Oh, what an understanding and, most importantly, calm got caught. He explained everything to me in such detail, supervised my actions and I left ... What he thought about me, history is silent. I went on ... Oh, what a difficult intersection. Damn, and you can't go around him. You have to go through it. No, it's good that I have an automatic transmission! There are cars rushing from both sides, but I didn’t really understand which road they were driving on and who was inferior to whom, so considering that I missed everyone I needed, I drove through it, but, damn it, did I drive it right or not , I still didn’t understand - I was driving almost with my eyes closed and nervously pressing on the gas pedal. I think that one of the drivers must have cursed me. Well, I finally got to the right place, parked near the wall of the house and went about my business. I come back, I go to the car. I look from the side at the dirty front wheel of my car and it seems to me that it is lowered, on the other hand I can’t look at the wheel for comparison - the car is standing next to the wall of the house. I look at the rear wheel - it's normal, but I don't like the front one at all. I went to look for some guy-car enthusiast. I again got a normal guy, he agreed to help me in my trouble. I approached him, I told him about my doubts about the wheel, and he calms me down, says that the wheel is not flat, it’s just that the front wheels, as a rule, pump up a little less than the rear ones, and the car just sank under its own weight. In general, everything is fine with the wheel. And for my reassurance, he began to ask me for a pump with a pressure gauge to check the tire pressure. What is there! What kind of pump is there, and even with a pressure gauge, my car doesn’t even have license plates yet, and then they ask for some kind of pump. In general, he advised me to go to a tire shop to calm down and buy a pump as soon as possible. What he thought of me, history is silent. That's how my second day behind the wheel went. As they say, both laughter and sin. Well, I will continue to describe my difficult development of my car.
So, day three. Morning. Wow, what a nasty weather outside the window. Oh what is it? Snow? And this is in the middle of May? Oh, and how can I go on such a road now? Or maybe still take the bus, and then on foot? Okay, I'll go outside and decide how I'm going. I stand next to the car in the parking lot. To go or not to go - that is the question? Okay, I'll go anyway. What do they say - the engine needs to be preheated? Damn, who should I ask? Oh man, can you advise me? Thank you, of course, but I don't have a car factory and I don't have an alarm system... An anti-theft system? There is an immobilizer. I'll put it on, of course. Thanks again! Well, as they say, let's go! I don’t drive hard, I suggest everyone who is nervous and in a hurry to go around me in the left lane. I arrived. Where to park? No, I don't want to climb into this bottleneck! So what are you signaling? I'm already climbing, climbing... But how am I going to get out? Okay, I'll think about it later. Maybe I'll find some helper. I'm coming back. No, well, at least someone would have left, otherwise they are standing, damn it. How to get out here? Oh man, don't pass by! Help me Like what? I can't leave. What a good one! Helped me so much Thank you! No, the world is not without good people! I got home without much trouble.
Day four. The weather seems to be nothing. Wow, and the buses decided to go on strike today, so now I won’t excuse myself - I’ll have to go in my car. Arrived at the right place. Again, there is nowhere to park, only on the edge of the roadway. Dear mother, I don’t drive back and even into the lane. Okay, I was - I wasn’t, I’ll park. I'm coming back... God, how am I going to leave... Hello, Zhenya, please come here, I'm afraid to leave Thank you, my friend! I sit and wait for help to arrive. Well, here is my savior! By blocking the extreme right lane and turning on the emergency alarm, a friend allowed me to calmly leave the parking lot. It's good that she immediately understood me! It's good to have such friends! Well, let's go home! Oops, rush hour and traffic jam. Damn, I'm in the wrong lane and I can't wedge into the right lane. I open the window. Young man, you don't miss me Oh, thank you! Well, I'm right there, I'm not far there. That's how my fourth day behind the wheel went.
Day five. Today is a day off and I agreed that our acquaintance with me traveled around the city and taught me a little. Will you lead? So I can do it myself. Okay, okay, I don’t argue. Oh, I’m dying of fear now. Please explain to me why drive on a flashing green like that? No, it doesn't matter to me that I'll arrive a minute later. But it's more likely that I won't get into an accident. We've arrived. We change seats. Now I'll drive. We're approaching a crossroads. Flashing green again. A scream from the right almost stunned me. I already began to regret that I asked him to ride with me ... No, don’t break me, I won’t drive on a flashing green, and even more so on a yellow one. I don’t have a fire and I’m not in a hurry , and this is not Formula 1. Eh, how did I lose sight of the fact that he likes to get drunk? We arrived at the autodrome. Shall we practice? Listen to you? Of course I listen carefully. What? Four times turned over and the same number flew into a ditch? Shouldn't you save your car? Yes, I listen, I listen ... Well, no, let me drive slowly, but it is less likely to fly into a ditch or get into an accident. As you know, you go quieter - you will continue Thanks for the advice But I won’t drive like that. In general, is the speed of 50-60 km / h - is it slow for the city? And yet there are a lot of signs with a speed limit of up to 40 km / h? Don't teach me to break the rules! And I will take care of my car and I don’t need to be told that I need to change my attitude towards the car! I'll do my own way anyway. So we trained. I took him home and sighed calmly. Now I will look for another, calmer, who can train with me next weekend.
That's how my first week behind the wheel went - as they say, it's funny and I want to cry.