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History Of violinist and Bratkov that occurred in the Soviet era
Bashny.Net
From the author:
The airplane was talking with a neighbor at the window.
Skinny, curly-haired, called Alexander, for violinist profession. Agreed we are on St. Petersburg, Alexander was born and grew up, and I lived for five years
They remembered dismal nineties and Sasha told such a story here:. B>
One winter, late in the evening we went with Dad on the tram, it is me "music school" drove me then eight years before. Little people, five people -. Ten, on the whole car
Suddenly stopping flies real bandit gang, six people, for some reason, I remember the number. Evil seems that something happened over there, can run away from the cops. In any case, these are not on the tram ride. All the various sizes - from two-meter to the small, but mean real fighters. With broken noses and ears.
In general, athletes in the profession, and ex-officio bandits.
Dressed so beautiful that the eye can not take: tracksuits, brand crosses, about the chain generally keep quiet. Yes there a chain? Each of kid jacket cost as all our tram.
They loudly cursing, discussing something, and passengers shrank in the chair, their heads do not spit and effort of thought attracted tram quickly to its stop.
Here, one of the lads gently lit.
Some Dzyadok from his seat, not looking back, muttered something like: "The tram no smoking»
The gunman turned to the frightened people, and asked loudly:
- Who ?! Who's something vyaknul ?!
In response to a dull silence
mate continued:. B>
- If someone wants to say something, then please note - of the words have to answer. Ready to fight? Charged. No? Sit quietly and utknites the window.
Naturally - the audience quite subsided and shrank his shoulders, well that though his grandfather was not given, who resented
. And suddenly, my dad, my dad puny intelligent: one hundred and sixty centimeters tall and weighing fifty pounds, engineer technologist of confectionery factory, whispers to me: "Sasha, sit here and hold the violin»
My desperate forty father, who had never fought, stood up and, horror of horrors, he went back to the site where the bellow and smoked bandyuki.
One hand gripped in a fist, and I perfectly saw the trembling of his fingers, and I very nearly died of fear for him.
Dad came up to him and said loudly, trying to hide the tremolo in his voice:
- The tram can not smoke! Extinguish cigarettes please!
There was an endless pause, the team studied surprised my dad, his jaw tight, and finally one of them said:
- Well, you can not, you can not, you say, we heard you
. Not every day you meet a man with steel balls.
Cigarette butts immediately flew out the window.
I have not remained sitting on the ground, he ran to the case and stood behind the Pope. One bandit patted my head and said:
- Fiddler, you even can not imagine what your cool Dad, you can be proud
. The tram stopped at an intersection, the crew opened the door and parachuted into the street.
Dad and I went on and I was trying to figure out all the way, that it had for these "balls of steel", and what are they for? Papa smiled stupidly and clumsily walked away from the theme ...
Author: grubas
: Fishki.net
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