Portwine, TV Shows And Love ...

The hood of the car cut through the autumn air of another squalid village. Among the ruins of houses and attached barns, occasionally the trunks of local natives were seen. Morning with a cold wind let in November into the car, instead of cigarette smoke, let out in the window. Strangely frightening it seems the Russian outback after cities - "million". And not only with its repulsive mud and dullness, but with faces of people, this remote place inhabiting. In the clean air, not fouled by the heat of the factories and vapors of gasoline, you can smell wood, grass, earth and fumes. Yes, it is a fume. Walking along the street of the village N in search of a cafe or a place where you can drink a cup of coffee, you feel like Parsley at the Sunday Fair. In the views of local residents read: "Stranger, stranger, stranger!". Among countless diners with plastic chairs and crocked tables, one more or less decent institution comes across. Cafe "Starry Night". And here the stars are not clear. Night - even more so. The sign clearly indicates: "The cafe is open until 19.00". Anyway. Entering the cafe, you immediately feel uncomfortable - you had to tear off the waitress-seller from the next scanword. Among the huge selection of port colors of all colors, containers and brands, a price tag with a shy inscription is barely visible: "Coffee 3 in 1. 10 rubles." The saleswoman with sweaty cheeks, red eyes and a persistent fragrance of cheap perfume, having received the order, automatically seized the bottle of port by the usual movement. But, having reformed, she still brought coffee.

-With us? - The smoky voice of the waitress, sounded wildly against the backdrop of another "hit" of modern pop, coming from the speakers of the radio.

Having received an affirmative nod, she, silently, withdrew. A few minutes later there was a heartbreaking phone call. There was a feeling that at the other end of the wire someone had an emergency. Unperturbed saleswoman, taking off the phone, not looking up from the scanword, breathed into the phone: "Allo !?". Apparently, it was her bored girlfriend from a nearby diner, for the story she told the invisible interlocutor in the phone was impressive with her details. After a long discussion of the next series of the series mixed with a talk show, their conversation was reduced to a broken heart and unhappy love. Someone V. was terribly hunched up to port. Using it in liters, he, eventually, drank to the handle and began to put his fists against the shiny cheeks of our heroine. Apparently, this is the reason for her red, bared eyes. The last drop of patience of the saleswoman has been going on for a year and a half already, and she is about to leave him.

Lighting a cigarette at the exit from the cafe "Starry Night" to break the aftertaste of the disgusting coffee, I encountered a bunch of local residents, or rather the male part, headed for a nearby snack bar. Apparently behind the port, judging by the loud clamor. That evening, after returning home, to make a scandal for a negligent wife for a cold dinner. In order to be out of work in a week. To die in forty years ...

The barely audible rumble of the engine, brought me out of a feeling of prostration and reflection about what I saw. Another five minutes and I'll leave here, dissecting the cold November air ...