Rus Articles Journal

notes of the impractical person

Quite often, especially for the weekend, I come into little shop on a gasoline station that in the neighbourhood. Beer to drink with a pack of harmful, but such tasty chips there, - it is guilty, my flesh is not always strong - or, there, two hundred vodka with the friend to overturn gram. Atmosphere there cozy: it is cool in the summer, and in the winter warmly. And service kind. Only that me, the impractical person confuses, so it is a difference in the prices.

- How many you have a vodka bottle?

- Ten local rubles.

- And why in the next shop that in two hundred meters from here, almost twice the cheapest way? Vodka another can at you?

- Yes, is not present. Same. Local winery. Just at us with a margin.

- And - and - and.

However, that means “with a margin“, I, the impractical person, did not understand yet. So nasty

vodka. And prices different.

Near the house that I remove, local avtodorstroyremont preened feathers. Yes such that I gasped. In a month the road was broadened, covered with a thick layer of chocolate asphalt, built a stop. Beauty! Only in a week, coming back from work and podivyas nearly to a company on the number of avtodostroyremontnik in orange vests, I was surprised even more.

Children, ponagnav technicians, and also by means of lom and shovels, picked open recently so beautifully laid asphalt, having scratched out everything that before with such work and it was so remarkably laid and … put other layer of “black caviar“ - coarse-grained brilliant asphalt. Fine looks, juicy such road, without potholes and potholes. Only I, the impractical person, do not understand: why it was necessary to put the first layer of asphalt, then to scratch out it and to put another? Perhaps it is such technology of laying of asphalt, and?

After New year picked up somewhere, whether flu, whether cold. Well, some unclear epidemic rheum. The body aches, the head hurts, in a nasopharynx as if poured in lead. Well, I die.

I Go to our first-aid post. I hatch out turn, I say to the doctor on duty that I feel preparshivo, I ask release. That silently puts to me a thermometer.

- Yes I have no temperature. The body here only aches also the head all on fire. Perhaps this poisoning what?

- Measure temperature.

- Well, well.

In five minutes I show to a gloomy vrachikha a thermometer on which classical


- You have no temperature - the doctor puzzly looks at me.

- I spoke. At me only the body aches also the head …

- I cannot give you release.

- But I awfully feel …

- If you had temperature, I would give you release, and so, I cannot.

- Give - I once more will measure.

When this of Pies in a skirt is removed, I rub a thermometer about a trouser-leg to 37,2, I return

to a vrachikha, that looks at me, but release writes out.

I do not want to lie and wriggle, but, here, explain to me, the impractical person why that you were recognized as the patient, you surely have to have temperature? It that if you have no temperature, but there can be hay fever, a maternity fever, a rubella, jaundice, a diarrhea and tuberculosis combined, you are not sick?

Why when in the bus control approaches me, I involuntarily feel guilty though I never go a hare? Why they all the menacing look, without knowing you yet, you are already suspected, and you, without knowing them, already you have before them sense of guilt as if you are actually guilty?

Why before each newspaper stall or a booth with stuff I steadily have to strike an unambiguous pose, be bent servilely and absolutely inconveniently, and from this inconvenient be so kind to mumble situation to the sitting fat aunt ““ only to hear dissatisfied puffing of that whose passionless nirvana I dared to break?

Why in this country to receive more - less normal medical care, to find more - less normal work, to issue all necessary pieces of paper, to order more - less dry firewood for the winter, be lop-sided in the yard a grass, to clean a flue, to get acquainted with the girl, ustroitsyav a kindergarten and HIGHER EDUCATION INSTITUTION, and at last to die and lay down on a cemetery, it is necessary to have more - less normal communications?