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Oh, I love… A series of short stories
Oh, I love… A series of short stories
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Oh, I love… A series of short stories

Nikolay Lakutin

Oh, I love… A series of short stories

Oh, I love the fat ones

At one time, my brother and I traveled to different cities in Russia. There were trips of an entertaining nature, there were trips of an archaeological and esoteric plan, and it happened that they went solely for economic mercantile reasons.

I don't remember exactly where it was, in which city. Maybe it was somewhere in Altai, maybe in Omsk, maybe in Chelyabinsk, but I remember for sure that it wasn't in my hometown of Novosibirsk.

It means that we are walking along some central street with my brother, having a nice conversation, eating ice cream, exploring the city, local attractions. The gait is light, the mood is excellent, life is wonderful.

Here I will make a small digression, and tell you a little about myself and my brother. By the way, yes, I have a brother, so there are also two of us, which does not please a certain audience at all. But if I've always been the d… seeker of the d…seeker, then my little brother has somehow always been shot down. Not exactly a fat man, but there was always a belly. And if in childhood we had some more movement. Running, jumping, climbing trees, then entering adulthood, we, like most people, settled at work. Gatherings in offices, sitting in the car in traffic jams and intercity flights. Fast food. All this left its mark and was deposited in my brother's abdomen. Well, as I was a worm, so I remained one.

So here we go. I'm skinny, and my brother is chubby. Almost like Lelik and Bolik. We go to ourselves quietly, peacefully, decorously. We talk. Some people are coming towards us, saying something to themselves among themselves, discussing something. Everything seems to be the same as always. Nothing unusual. But then it happened!

We look – a woman is coming to meet us. Years … well under forty. A sturdy aunt, approximately similar both in appearance and in forms to the one that flaunts on the cover of this article. And this aunt is not just walking – she is smiling. And not just smiling. She smiles somehow… frankly speaking with a scoundrel! There was something in her smile that made me pay attention to her. After all, she smiles, lady, and at the same time looks at us.

Well, yes… smiling, yes smiling. We checked the fly, everything is buttoned up, so everything is fine. And it wasn't there!

We almost caught up with her and even almost passed each other, when suddenly this beautiful woman, for no reason at all, launched her playful little hands straight into my brother's belly. So, you know, sharply and purposefully, so selflessly and selflessly, as if her whole future life depended on it!

Figuratively speaking, even I shuddered.

I do not know what happened to my brother there. I guess he's shitting himself a little, too. The situation, as you understand, was very favorable. And this lady, God grant her health, how let's feel the folds of my brother's stomach. He gropes, frankly "mats" and sentences:

– Oh, I love fat ones!

In general, while we were standing in a frenzy, the woman received her dose of "delicious feelings" and headed happily down the road. When the gift of speech returned to us, my brother finally said:

– No, well, it's interesting. And I like si… ki, for example. But I don't do that, do I? Can I start?

In my opinion, it was, after all, Chelyabinsk.

Dear woman, if you are reading these lines now – know! I don't have a very good opinion about Chelyabinsk because of you. What is most unpleasant is not the fact that it was Chelyabinsk at all, but Chelyabinsk definitely fell in my eyes thanks to you!

Don't do that again, please. Love the fat ones further, but do it… somehow more delicately. Warn me at least before the attack, that, they say, dear, I'm going to crumple your layers now. Well, or something else. But not the way it was done. I still shudder when I remember. It's a good thing we didn't meet any lovers of d.. bloodhounds in this city. Otherwise, I feel like I would have stayed there, I have a weak heart. And you shouldn't have read this article then. However, maybe you wouldn't have lost much, but somehow I wouldn't want to die such an unheroic death. It's not respectable somehow.

Know, woman, we're not going to Chelyabinsk anymore!

Oh, I love the skinny.

I remembered another entertaining episode, in continuation of the theme of my trips with my brother to the cities of Russia.

I'm telling you…

There is such a place in the Omsk region – Okunevo! This is not an easy place. People from all over the world come here to see the "cosmodrome", which is naturally hidden from everyone's eyes by the 4th or 5th, or I don't know which dimension. I didn't really delve into it. People come here to visit the five most famous lakes. They are so famous that I don't remember the name of any of them. Yes, I did not go to these lakes… They surrendered to me. However, many people have been to these parts. I remember exactly what Mikhail Zadornov was… and who else I don't remember. Old age is not a joy, memory fails. It was in 2015.

In this place of power, my brother's hard work has carried him. He was there with a group of clairvoyants surveyed the area, agreed with the guides so that they would lead their group to the very w.... the thicket. Well, I wasn't interested in all this, and yet, I fell on my brother's tail, and escaped for a few days away from home, from my family (for which I was immediately punished), because it was just a crime to miss such an opportunity.

What was I doing there? I was sitting, writing a book. If I'm not confused, I was working on the book "6,000,000,000 Trumans" there. Over the first or second part.

For me, this area was amazing not so much the sights of esoteric directions as the cost of housing. Completely ruined houses hundreds of kilometers from civilization cost 2-5 million rubles in this place. And they were bought! That was a real miracle for me. These houses were bought, demolished and made such recreation centers and guest houses for tourists.

We were not the only guests on the territory of the guest house. About five families had breakfast, lunch and dinner with us. As a rule, people come here not ordinary, but some kind of … spiritual. Well, for me, an amateur, at the time it was just writing a book and communicating with the local population.

And so, one ill-fated evening, the devil still pulled my tongue, and I, unable to contain my emotions, suddenly declared:

– Look! Nifint yourself the Moon!!!

All present turned their eyes to the sky.

The moon was really unusual. 5-7 times more than the one that people observe in cities. Somehow, it even becomes a little uncomfortable when you see such a large celestial object.

And so, at my call, one woman was so impressed by what she saw that she dropped the keys to the house from her playful hands! (Why playful – you will understand later). She just at that moment took out the keys, and aimed to open the door, as I pulled her back with my baritone treble flowing through the expanses of the forest night.

Eh, it was not destined for me and the guests of the complex to admire the Moon, because the attention from the beautiful was immediately switched to an equally fascinating and sonorous female:

– Bl … hmm hmm hmm....d!!! her

keys fell no matter where, but right into the crack of the wooden porch, on the steps of which she was standing when I announced the neighborhood with the news about wow, what a Moon!

Then your humble servant, who has supernatural insight, realized that I would have to get the keys… to me.

And who else? The male part of the population has not yet returned from their wanderings through the lakes and the 4th dimensions. And here I am, he's the center of attention here.

What I just didn't do to get this guy his top key. The hostess of the establishment was diligently looking for a spare one, and in the meantime I was trying to break up the porch. You've probably already noticed from the photos that I'm not Ilya Muromets, or even Elisha Silovich. Therefore, the task in front of me was extremely difficult. I tried to unscrew the rusty screws, tear off the stale board in the end, but in the end, as I remember, after calling all the local Spirits to help, I somehow managed to tear this ill-fated porch off the ground (probably along with the house, I don't remember the details of how I did it), and the lady managed to pull the key out of there for a few seconds, before the opportunity to earn me an intervertebral hernia.

We were sitting on this porch like Shurik and Ninochka in a Caucasian captive after swimming in a mountain river. I was shaking from overexertion, the lady was laughing. Probably, my attempts in this situation looked very awkward and comical. It's almost night…, you can't even see the porch there, let alone the rusty screws. And try to find a small key in the night under the porch? I didn't give this aunt a smartphone to shine, otherwise she would have left her smartphone there under the porch, and my strength was running out. I feel like I haven't fully restored them yet.

Okay. Everything worked out, we found it, we coped. I'm good! Having checked that the woman opened the lock and disappeared from my sight behind the door of my house, I went to bed with a sense of accomplishment, with a trampled faith in beauty and with undermined health.

Do you think that's the end of the story?

Right now!!!

Who would have thought!

It turns out!

I somehow managed to impress this woman, I realized it during dinner the next day, when we were eating some strange soup at a round table in the company of guests. This woman sat down to my right, side by side, and everything went about the same as usual, except for one small but very important detail…

I carefully and carefully put another spoonful of soup in my mouth and I feel… something is wrong… I notice some new sensations and movements on myself under the table. And it's not about the soup at all. The thought slipped by, but I didn't take it seriously, I decided to make sure. He recoiled a little from the table, lo and behold, oh, you're green Christmas trees…

Well, what do you think I saw there?

The neat manicured hand of this very woman playfully climbs up my leg. From the knee to… hmm… in the waist area, in general.

What to do?

The woman is pretty, I won't hide it. Moderately thin, height, about 175 cm. The figure, the face, the manicure is beautiful. She smiles, her eyes play, her voice rings. Well, everything is as it should be. BUT!

Firstly, I was already married for ten years at that time. And secondly, there was another important argument in front of me – the husband of this woman. And on the left is her son. And between them, my cheerful companionable brother, who was telling some stories and making people laugh. The soul of the company… you can't take that away from him. But I was absolutely not laughing at that moment!!!

Meanwhile, the hand is crawling up. And there's still a lot of soup left in the plate. And the "vertical of power" is already such that even if you chop wood, even if you do a stand, and you will not leave the table unnoticed! You'll catch on to something or you'll run into someone!

Half a tundra!

– AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

And time goes by, and the hand crawls. And the distance is getting shorter. And conscience is already driving his fist under his nose.

I don't remember how I ended up in my cell, I probably teleported, because there were no other options to leave without attracting attention and explanations in general. I was propped up on both sides by the people, as they say, in tightness and not in offense, but somehow I still coped with this.

I slept badly at night, emotionally.

In the morning my brother asked me why I had disappeared. And at the same time he told me that the same woman was very interested in me. Who is he, where does he work, what does he do…

Well, brother – he will always cover, always lend a helping hand and help out at the right moment. He found nothing better than to answer the lady's questions as follows–

– Yes, he sweeps there. Give – bring, what kind of garbage to throw away – that's in his line.

My brother did not know what was going on between us at that time, but apparently decided to show his wit in this way, which in this case came in handy.

The lady's interest in my person disappeared instantly. She didn't come up to me anymore, didn't sit down, didn't smile, and didn't even look in my direction. By the way, I was then the CEO of Sigma companies in Novosibirsk, but I earned several times less than the last janitor in Finland.

So what am I all about?

I'm not going to Okunevo now either!

I still have no soup left… oh, this Moon for me…

Oh, I love my job

Today I remembered an episode from my life that took place around 2014. As many of you know, at that time I was the CEO of a network of companies in Novosibirsk. In 2010, I founded a company for the installation and maintenance of stretch ceilings. This organization worked until 2017, then I liquidated it. Tired of everything. He went into other areas. But for the period of the events described, the business was living a full life. I have never shied away from working with my own hands, even though I was a manager, and I had managers, installers, accounting, measurers, and glue guys on my staff. Nevertheless, if the team was sewn up, then I personally went to the installation and, taking off my white shirt, pulled the ceilings together with the guys. Very often I went to measurements and personally signed contracts on the spot. So this time, I personally came to the measurement for one of the applications.

I arrived at the appointed time, got up, rang the bell. I'm waiting. A girl opens the door. As soon as she opened the door, my pulse immediately quickened. The fact is that this girl was wearing a man's T-shirt. A very nice T-shirt. Well, that's it. Nothing else.

– Spt … come on, I may have made a mistake with the apartment– – I was a little confused, looking around and checking the apartment number.

– No, that's right. Are you on a measurement? Come on in–" the girl politely invited. She smiled so pleasantly and took a few steps back.

I didn't feel well at all. That is, of course, good, but not quite. The working mood was completely lost. But I'm an understanding person, everything happens. Therefore, I kindly offered it from the threshold:

– I probably arrived a little earlier, look, if it's inconvenient now, I'll wait, call as soon as you're ready – I'll get up.

– Oh, no, no, it's all right, please come in– – the girl smiled, and walked down the long corridor, completely knocking the ground out from under my feet with her… these… what's their name… In general, the T-shirt was not very short for her.

I blinked, finally closed my mouth, and at the same time the door. He took off his shoes. I'm standing, waiting for the girl to return in a more conventional form. I look, a sleepy kid comes out to meet me. His situation was the opposite. There was no top, and there were some kind of shorts on the bottom. He extended his hand to me in a friendly way and invited me to follow the girl.

– You need to measure there, come on, there's a room on the left, – he said to me, after which he disappeared into the restroom.

I began to creep along the corridor with timid steps, giving the girl time to, you know, well, somehow cover up the whole thing. And then she comes around the corner. Ufffffffff… in the same outfit. Nothing has changed at all. And obviously nothing was going to change. She was still smiling very pleasantly and pleasantly, and I fell into a coma again, from which I hadn't really had time to get out yet, and quickly ran into the room.

Obviously, the guys came here recently. The room has been freshly renovated. New laminate flooring, light wallpaper. It remained only to make ceilings. There was a rolled-out mattress on the floor, which had obviously just been abandoned by this entertaining couple. Still, even the smell of not at all repair hovered around the room. I quickly, in a shaking and stuttering voice, asked what the owners wanted. I coordinated the lighting, the color of the ceiling and the design features, after which I took an optical rangefinder and started measuring. I measure it, write it down, and the handles are shaking, the legs are shaking, the eye is twitching. Somehow I measured this room, said that I would cheat – I would call back, said goodbye, and flew out of the apartment. I went down the stairs like a whirlwind, because I urgently needed to put everything here somewhere. I sat in the car for a while, calmed down and drove on.

We have worked out this application properly. The installation took place, the girl called, thanked us, and later invited us to perform the installation in another room. And who do you think went to the measurement?

..

and how could I not go?

God knows, I didn't want that)) But the Lord does not give tests beyond his strength, right? I had to pass this test with honor once again.

Do you remember how the military regulations say?

"A soldier must endure all the hardships and deprivations of military service with fortitude"

And work is not a service?

Therefore… Arrived, got up. I tuned in, pulled myself together, and pressed the bell, having managed to cross myself before that and spit over my left shoulder at the neighbor's door. She opened the door again. This time her boyfriend was not in the apartment. The girl was wearing some kind of T-shirt and shorts. But the shorts were so short that you could say there were no shorts. This time the measurement was much easier for me. I almost didn't stutter anymore, and again we worked out as it should.

But, as I said above, in 2017, I still liquidated this company. I have a weak heart, well, these are all experiences. You can't work so hard. Take care of yourself, honestly.

Oh, I love it in the heat

Memories took me back to the distant carefree years. I must tell you that I have never been a good boy. Ever since the garden times, he pulled off the neighborhood girls… the one with the flower. I fought with pleasure with "colleagues in the shop." I remember how I tore my T-shirt in a fierce struggle to my garden friend, then I sat and sewed it up on a chair under the strict supervision of a teacher, and my friend, laughing, pointed his finger at me and teased. It was embarrassing, but more humiliating. But now I can sew T-shirts.

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