Potato

I came out of the elevator to smoke in outdoor clothing - winter in the yard. Towards a heavy man with a full bag and Bezmenov. "Potatoes need?" - "No." Mentally wished him luck - our new home at this time of the day completely empty. All work and in the gardens.
Finished his returning to his 7th floor. Doorbell. I open - the same man. Already rather out of breath with his bag and evil, because the bag is still full. I see that I know and do not know - I went the same type, at the top of the clothes out of the entrance, and inside there and canary yellow gown. In general, it seems the idea went stumbling in the direction, why all this entrance are the same ferocious faces. He asks, for the first time: "Potatoes need?" - "No».
A few minutes later, I remembered that the neighbor with the same 21 floors newsletter. Well, the idea of ​​a harmless drawing. I put on a sweater ponaryadnee and immediately went to her. Elevator, of course. We had time to sit down for tea and even start all sorts of nonsense, when the doorbell rang. "Wait a minute" - I said sweetly neighbor - "I will tell you myself!»
Sack the guy was still full. At the sight of me for the third time and again in a different outfit, instead of the usual "potatoes need?" Was heard: "What kind of a house such a fucking? !!»




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