Recently I had a very interesting conversation with future matchmakers, I have never met such strange people.

Before the wedding, everyone is nervous. Such a day, so much hassle, everything should be perfect, without a hitch, without a hitch. Tamada (or guest host) forgets the words; the cake is two floors smaller than the order; the hall is decorated with anything, not as promised at first. But even that's bullshit. Really. moodiness It can only occur due to really important reasons: relatives of the bride and groom.



A drunken uncle will show a “master class” in ballroom dancing, and the bride’s brother will want to arrange a fight with someone from distant relatives. Some believe that this is not a problem, on the contrary, the decoration of any wedding. But young people always think differently. They think, “Why at our wedding?”

I recently had an interesting conversation with future matchmakers. I never thought there were such caricatured people in life. We were sitting at the same table, in a small five-minute cafe. In the sense that such establishments usually come to drink coffee with a croissant and go on with their business. I actually ordered this. But the people sitting in front of me ordered a barbecue, fried potatoes, okroshka and another glass of red. They were hot.

I work abroad. My ex-husband is in business and I'm with him. We have no feelings left, only a friendly relationship and a common only daughter. Not that I'm too busy, really. But I don't go home often. Therefore, a few months ago, I agreed with the matchmakers that they will arrange the wedding, indicate the amount for all this pleasure, and I will send them my share if I do not have time to arrive on time. Turns out we didn't agree. Nothing.



When I myself, personally, came to my daughter, then I saw that the cart is still there. My matchmakers learned absolutely nothing. Not about the restaurant, not about the menu, even some entertaining presenter, and they were too lazy to look for. That's despite the fact that we have them in the city, I think, and not five. In short, people are pretty negligent, you'll forgive me.

That's when I decided, since I'm in town, to meet them, to talk. Before that, we met only online, we talked via video link. Then I was too busy with other things and did not pay attention to what my matchmakers were like. People's stuff. Simple. And in a personal meeting I was able to see it for myself. I was not bothered by their style of communication, habits, or appearance. But here are their "tricks" as five-year-olds. It's still annoying.

“We are ordinary people. We have an only son. Of course, we understand everything, but if you remember your ancestors, the bride always went with a dowry. We're not pretending to do anything like that. Just let the wedding be on your side. We don't have any money. But we're not going to invite the poor. They have money from the envelopes of the young and all will return. Otherwise, the situation in the country ...



Yes, that’s how I was made to understand that the main sponsor (and only) of my daughter’s wedding will be myself. Well, roughly that's what I was waiting for. But if it's parents like that, daughter, how can I hope that their son has taken a different path? Otherwise, there will be more fun in the future, that’s for sure. Come on, just washing out loud.

But that's not all. You see, I have an apartment in town, nice. Which I give to my friends, in which I am sure. Two rooms, renovations and a beautiful view from the windows. I don't want more, but I don't want less. The daughter also feels good: I bought her a one-bedroom in a new building a couple of years ago, with parking, concierge and all amenities. The daughter did it herself. At my expense, of course.



Peels Well, I didn't even think this would happen. I thought my daughter’s apartment would be an incentive for her to either make more money on her own or find a man who could do it himself. Ha, I was wrong. Because my matchmakers put forward an offer to me: let the young live in my apartment while I am away. My daughter's apartment is rented. So there will be more money, and if anything, then they will exchange these two apartments for one “good” three-room one. Somewhere in the secondary... With alien cockroaches, yeah.

And they told me their ideas without any embarrassment or embarrassment. Smearing ketchup on plates with the remnants of the ordered barbecue. And I kept thinking that at this moment, when my daughter and her future husband will change two good apartments for some multi-bedroom bedbug, this, according to their logic, must be? When I play the coffin, right? Will I live abroad or at the station? However.



I didn’t make any noise or even raise my voice. I just said I can't really talk about anything, I need to talk to my daughter. Which I haven't done yet. But it’s not scary, she seems to be thinking too.

Oh, yeah. Here's another detail for dessert. After we all talked, I learned a lot about my future “relatives”, it’s time to separate. The waiter brought the bill and I was about to pay for my drink when I suddenly saw the questioning glance of my interlocutors. “Olga Sviridovna, but you invited us here. We had our own plans for that time. We would have rested instead of getting here.



I had to pay my bills. And that's before my daughter married their son. But the good news is they chose to pay for the taxi themselves. I don’t even know where this nobility came from, apparently the driver was one of their relatives. Yeah. All right, I’m not worried about my daughter’s future. We just need to get a good brain. Oh, I don't want to tell her dad about my adventures, I guess I should. It's a great idea to see his face after meeting the matchmakers. That would be a number, of course!