Body and landscape

Bomzhik Zhenya in a model of a socially oriented state

There is an interesting, rich life around him ...

It was in the summer, in the summer ...

- There you have a half -naked man in the doorway, are you in the know? - I asked aunt in the form of a minister of the subway, who was sitting at the turnstiles at the entrance to the Kuznetskiy bridge station.

Frankly, I expected surprisingly, but miscalculated.

“And this is Zhenya, our bum,” Aunt explained.

- Lives here?

- Yes. But he is actually usually in pants. What, already in panties?

“Yes, practically,” I say.

- He took off his pants, then. Hot.

Aunt peered into my eyes cautiously and promised:

- Well, I'll tell the police ...

I am vividly interested in her forecast for the development of the plot.

- Great! - I say. - And what about the police?

Aunt looked at me with poorly hidden hostility.

With hostility, however, easily explained, for a person who is ready in Russia to wake this famously, representatives of the law, or an idiot, or a foreigner. In Russia, life goes ahead, what is it, and it, of course, is so -so, but for everyone it is better than representatives of the law ...

“Sorry,” I said, and went home to the Kuznetsk bridge, where the eternal French have long been replaced by Italian boutiques and restaurants ...

Here, in fact, is the whole model of our socially oriented state.

Bomzhik Zhenya lives at the door of the Kuznetsk bridge metro. In winter and autumn, he hides with something from the collections of past seasons (from the nearest garbage container), in the summer there lives naked, because it is hot. He eats irregularly, but drinks at all times of the year, doing without a sommelier.

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To improve the foreign policy image of the country, in the middle of which Bomzhik Zhenya lies without pants, 9.5 billion rubles were allocated from the budget

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When, without changing the dispositions (across the doors), he already removes the pants in oblivion, some unrelated neurasthenic like me begins to protest. And the subway worker, unpleasantly surprised by such vulnerability, calls the police.

- And what about the police? - As was asked above. - Wash him? Dressed in clean? Learns the last name, name, residence and circumstances of the disappearance of the apartment? Lucky to the shelter?

- Yeah. Say more: to the Tretyakov Gallery.

Alas. If the Bomzhik Zhenya behaves quietly, he, holding him in a “monkey”, release him back into human life (the very one where he will lie on the asphalt at the entrance to the subway until the end of his short life). If he behaves poorly, he is treated in the “monkey” with improvised cops - and with traces of treatment on his face and body is released there, in the above savannah of the third decade of Russian democracy.

And not to say that there was no state in Russia at all.

The police are at least. Recently, she was renamed the police, spending a cloud of money on Herov. Two hundred meters from the lying bomber of Zhenya, there is a building of the Federal Security Service of Russia, in the past of the KGB of the USSR, and one door handle of this institution contains more funding and sovereign care than Bomzhik Zhenya saw from the school bench.

Around him there is an interesting life, filled with Spartakiads, Olympiads, World Championships, the sounds of the anthem and sawing innovation.

A kilometer of it there is a Kremlin in which the Forbes list is working and going to work for the lifelong lifelong leader. To improve the foreign policy image of the country, which is led by this amazing person (and in the midst of which Bomzhik Zhenya lies without pants), 9,500,000,000 rubles were recently allocated from the budget.

So far you will count the NOLIKS, and I will drink for Russia.

Valerian.

Photo: Grigory Dukor/Reuters