Linor Goralik: five stories about prudence

... Here, say, when a grandmother living in Israel died in Israel, the family decided to immediately buy a cemetery plot for not one, but for two - for grandparents. They were a little worried that his grandfather would somehow not understand, but his grandfather turned out to be reasonable and ragd by a person, but in Israel it is generally accepted, problems with the ground, etc. Well, real. We bought a plot, came to the Stummatic Office to order a monument to my grandmother. They say to them there: you know, let's immediately order two monuments, just two steam stones from one piece, the second will still stand with us, and we will make you a discount. Well, what are you, the family says: here he is, our grandfather, alive and beloved, what are you! And the dazzle grandfather says: Come on, of course, two stones, the discount is good, well, we are intelligent people, we will not pretend that I am eternal, what cocketing for. Then the stoves say: listen, so we have an excellent master here, which stunningly cuts the patterns, this is all, and we can transfer it to the thread also a double order, there will also be a discount. Grandfather warms up a warning hand and says to the children: there is no indignation, and the thread will be the same, and we will do everything in advance, well, whatever, we are sane people. And the discount is also good. Well, sane, yes. They begin to write out the account: there are two plots of two, two stones, two patterns of patterned, one name, one date and death is one, the installation of stone is one, there is one stone storage. Here Astrophysicist N. says: Listen, well, what we are flirting with, we are adults, sane people, let's not pay for storage, let them put two stones at once. This is probably also a big discount and generally reasonable managerial decision. Grandpa is not eternal, we all know this. And in general, says Astrophysicist N., let's honest: the name Dedushkino we know, the date of birth too. Well, that he is a loving father, grandfather, that's all - he himself will even help us formulate, he is a journalist. Let's knock out the name of Dedushkino right away, these are these, the date of birth and dash, and then Kamerez will arrive in the cemetery and quickly a baletty bale-will freeze the last date. And if, says Astrophysicist N., they give a discount, then we can even fill the first figures of the year at once: “20 ..”. Because we are reasonable people, right, grandfather? What to flirt. And grandfather asks: "Shurik, are you, oh ** l?" And Shurik to him: "And you?"

... Here, let's say, a cute conversable taxi driver who has returned from a trip to the USA in the USA is lucky. How did they fly, how was the weather, on business or so, to relatives or friends? "Do you have relatives there for a long time?" “Yes, twenty -five years,” says biologist Z. “Why are they not returning to live in Moscow?” - the taxi driver is surprised. Stunned by an unexpected issue, the biologist Z. honestly says: "Putin is afraid." "ABOUT! - the taxi driver says with satisfaction. “It works, therefore, anti-Russian propaganda!”

... Here, say, friends of the writer G. at some point decide for themselves that the writer G. is not a person, but a radio station. The radio station is called - well, let's call this “right -wing pudak”. And all that he says is not an attempt to spoil their mood, but programs. "The latest news on the Right Pudak radio." "Politics and relevance on the Radio Pudak radio." "Children's hour on Radio Pudak radio." When they bring the menu, these are his comments, for which you want to give a glass in the forehead, this is not from evil, this is a culinary show on the Right Pudak radio. It became much easier for everyone from this. They even decided that during the conversation about women, the radio was simply renamed from the “right pudak” to the “marriage Budak”. In a word, they, in general, the writer G. loved and searched for ways to somehow reconcile with its existence. And the writer G. was still offended and said that he was a peppy, cheerful man, that they were trolls, that this is a stupid joke, that he was tired of him. And they are standing near this very homeland oceanarium near pure ponds, and someone says: “Let's go? There the shark is small and generally beautiful. ” The writer G. opens his mouth, he wants to say: “Let's go, of course!”, He has a great mood, he also wants to watch a little shark. And then they say to him: “Well, now there will be a performance by V. Bianchi on the Right Pudak radio.” And the writer G. beasts and is no longer jokingly something that answers. And his friends are really ashamed, and they say that he is not at all Pudak and Budak at all, but very beloved, and here there is a wonderful Georgian basement with sofas, let them lead the writer there and will feed him khachapuri, and give wine, and tell how good he is. And the writer G. is already quite fanned and agrees, but everything cannot understand: why a basement, well, why a basement? We’ll still come in underground, now why.

... Here, say, the Flutist T. dreams of a nightmare about how the phone was stolen from him and for a day the monstrous incriminating SMES is sent from him throughout the address book. And he frantically writes to everyone in the mail: “Friends, do not believe anything! This is not what I say, it was my phone! " - And then it turns out that until this moment, such a version came to the head.

... Here, say, entrepreneur Sh. With his wife and daughter go to rest in Turkey. And there, in Turkey, the swimming trunks are torn in a completely liberal entrepreneur Sh., And also when a unfamiliar language is completely suddenly an attack of Russian patriotism occurs. And right in the middle of the beach, these two events lead to the fact that the entrepreneur Sh. Starts to scream at his wife, that he will not go to buy new swimming trunks, yes, he will go to the torn, yes, let her be ashamed, yes, he will yell in public, because what the hell will he buy swimming trunks here and this support the economy of some NATO Lisobs? It was necessary to go to the Crimea, our Crimea, in Crimea he would buy himself the most expensive swimming trunks, and she would not be ashamed of it, because our Crimea, and he is ready to maintain our economy with swimming trunks, and this will not be ready. The wife of entrepreneur S., also a woman with opinion, begins to yell at him, that she is ashamed of not a hairy ass in the gap of swimming trunks and not even for his cries, when people are looking and the child stands nearby, but for this stupidity, bloodthirstiness, inertness, for this disgusting vulgar “Crimean”, when Crimea is not ours, not ours! And all this time she, like a good wife, stands, of course, with her hands she covers her husband’s ass, generally a strong scene. And the daughter sits on the sand and looks with his mouth open, sprinkles with an iPad with a sand. And so they are patriotically shouting for some more time, they are pronounced - but all this, of course, solves neither the problem of Crimea or the problem of swimming trunks. And the latter, unlike the first, requires their personal intervention, urgent. And they put up, of course, gradually, they are generally loving, unzmable people, and the wife already gives her husband a towel so that he would be shook and went to the nearest shop to support the lyso-observant economy, there is no choice. And then my daughter suddenly says: “Can I ask? I did not understand-Crimea is our or not ours? " And the second round rushed, what a towel. But loving people calmed down slowly. And then the daughter is quietly like this: “Can I ask? I didn't understand, ours is whose? .. "