в Москве около Нескучного сада есть кабак, название...

in Moscow near Neskuchny Garden there is a tavern, I do not remember the name. There is a completely unique waiter. He reminded me of the bartender from the series. "Beer here! Drink your beer, today is Bavarian." Dense constitution, short, so simple, it seems even silly - while surprisingly likable person to himself, without a second thought. Initially, light interest, and at the end of friendliness, sympathy and mouth to ear.

And once the grandfather approached the store’s ticket office on Chkalovskaya, smiling, and asked if they had not found the loaf he had left in the storage room. I will never forget, with what intonation and feeling he said the answer to the question that, in fact, there is a loaf.
- Pletenka.
Grandfatherly cute, slightly stretching "yo", with hoarseness, slightly dismissively. Absolutely touching.

On Nevsky, she touches the girl’s tea promoter’s hand. Cheerful such, go, so drink some tea. Refuse, fed up. "Well, then at least give 50 rubles, I want to eat." Stop it. Come on, here’s the KFC on the corner — somehow completely spontaneously, usually I don’t do that — and here we eat. Silently and quickly, it seems that both are surprised by the situation, but do not serve the sight. I remembered "Brother" later.

Once in the same place I observed the cashier, who was completely overwhelmed by what he was doing. I would call it spirituality, albeit quite earthly, however, they say the same "seller from God." People left him satisfied and received a couple of sauces and additives that did not plan to eat at all. His refusals were not at all embarrassing, the speech flowed, his hands lived their lives, and it looked like a small theatrical performance. A dessert pie did not forget to take?

Recently, in a subway train of a city in Southeast Asia, I treated a man to candy. He looked disgusting in appearance, a Hindu, if I am not mistaken. He didn’t have half of his teeth, he denounced the Chinese in bad English, for which, in principle, he could get rid of fellow travelers. And he was interesting to me. That's what I think now, but how? He was like a child in his incontinence. I recently watch as Dr. K plays boogie-woogie on the street pianos, and the reaction of passers-by is very interesting. Adults modestly move aside, and the children immediately begin to dance, because it is impossible to stand exactly under such music!

Many have seen a trumpet player playing around the center. He rises on some elevation and performs simple motifs, leading a dialogue with the audience. One day he was in front of me in line at the pie. Do not hesitate, he traded these earned coins for soup and more different food. It was strange to see a person not in the circumstances in which he was used to. The movie or the news story ended, but what happened next with the heroes, who knows?

It happens like this: go, see a person, recognize him, and he will recognize you, equal, greet. You don't remember the name. I was absolutely crying: for the life of me, I didn’t remember how I knew the woman I met at the bus stop a couple of weeks ago (she recognized me too). I still remember her voice, facial expressions, I remember intonation, that is, we communicated for quite a long time, and not so long ago. Who is she? Lost and confused.

A coffee lady (as elegantly sounds) by the name of Anna fills vases in the kitchen with cookies, cabinets with dishes from dishwashers, makes sure that everything is enough, and we, fucking IT people, are called "kids." Rarely, but there is such a feeling when it’s just warm from the thought that a certain person is in the same building with you, on the same floor.

Two floors above me, my grandmother lives. She usually underwent such a mind, I avoided her. And somehow the courier comes here, and she descends from herself. And I must say that in the plate with the number of my apartment there is a definite integral. And the courier podzavis, looking at it, and his grandmother says so, a young man, this is the simplest integral, a respected citizen. It turned out that she had a technical education and worked as an engineer. I began to speak with her more often, and I was filled with respect, because God bless her head, but my character is very punchy.

I mean, there are a lot of people around with their emotions, thoughts, attitudes and motives, they are NPCs exactly to the extent that you perceive them that way.