Savings bank. Morning

The air-conditioned atmosphere of our corner savings bank smelled like a thunderstorm. The people were buzzing. I felt it immediately as soon as I took my place at the window next to a girl with a green scarf around her neck. (In our savings bank, all the girls are wearing green headscarves.) The reason for public discontent quickly became clear: the people did not understand why they (that is, the people) “must now overpay for who knows what.” (This is how my grandmother, who was very determined, formulated it.) We were talking about a revolutionary innovation of Sberbank - charging a commission on utility bills. Grandma was supported by everyone on this side of the counter with windows. The grandmother demanded a copy of the written order. The other side of the counter resolutely refused to provide a copy.

“What I don’t understand,” the man in shorts was indignant, “how did they live without a commission before this? Did they transfer our payments to their detriment?” “The problem is different,” explained the young man with glasses. — It’s high time for the Chairman of the Board of Sberbank, German Gref, to change his official Maybach. Hence the story with the commission.” “Shame on you!” — the girl behind the counter was indignant. It was in vain that she said this... The young man with glasses blushed, and threatening notes appeared in his voice: “Am I not ashamed?!” No, I don’t understand - am I not ashamed?!” Then he started swearing. Thoroughly and tastefully. About their Sberbank, about its board, about chairman German Gref, his relatives... Even Putin’s name flashed through. And all the citizens on this side of the bar were undoubtedly on his side.

By the way, I think that with the Maybach he hit the nail on the head...