In the last four months I precipitated divorcing, departed from her husband, or thrown them women. Rasvetochki - so I call them. I'm not messing with him in soul and in bed, not going to sleep with them, not trying to start any relationship. They don't need me - first, let at least well wash off the sweat of their husbands. And at the same time can shake it out of these two, five, six, and eight other programs. This at least, I repeat, only a necessary but not a sufficient condition.
They need something from me - first, they are masked by small requests, such as, for help in transportation of things, occasionally (or often depends on the level of development of speaking) peppered with phrases like "I have no one more to go". I understand that they voluntarily offered himself as a sacrifice jealous lust of their husbands - cutting all the friends of men with the car. Well. Sympathy, help a neighbor, or whatever we were taught? In the Soviet school. Me. And all of us - even two thousand years before the Soviet Union. I agree.
In the process of providing the most care - some are able to abstract away from himself and only his, created by their own hands, suffering) asked: " I do not bother you?
To which I honestly replied that transportation of things in the evenings is not what I dream, and in fact, I have things to do, but the genes of the great-great-great-not-know-how-there-great-grandmother - the third daughter of king Lear does not give me rest. What kind of responsibility. Or maybe it's just the Soviet school. It doesn't matter. Need help I will help.
Some resent the answer, some don't notice it, or maybe don't even understand. But no one refuses to proceed with Walker on the route of the "family home" - "home". They have no one more to go. The second, third, fifth. Trunks, bags, packages. Of them stick out hastily obrosenie there boots, shoes, dresses, sweaters, bathrobes, rare books. In some cases with native until recently floor down coats and coats. Taking all this into a bottomless, as it turns out, the trunk of his small and narodowego car, I'm surprised how many unnecessary things cluttered life, from the outset, doomed to death.
Carry things to their parents hard. Here is my help becomes necessary. At the point of loading, as a rule, there is a man the old fashioned way may not like the presence of a bald young man, ready to appear at ten in the evening to help to drag things ex-wife. And at the point of discharge is just the parents. They have big eyes looking at bald skull new friend and companion (as they think) their intelligent and sophisticated daughter, and they are glad that their daughter easily found the next, as they think, a candidate for the clip - it's not just the same as he sweats, pushing things to him in the apartment.
But they still unclear what awaits them ahead because they are so long accustomed to the night vigil restless Chad and employed at the wrong time of their toilets Khrushchev and Brezhnev apartments. Well, knowing the calamity that had befallen specifically for them is yet to come. But now they look at growing up in the hallway and vestibule mount things.
Strange smells and lots of smells, strange information, violation of my space, demanding curiosity, scraps of phrases and thoughts - there is plenty to visit these apartments. Well, to pull the cocoon is not a problem. I don't need strangers and strange I thought.
Then begin message. Coming at different times of the day. In these messages is an attempt to awaken to compassion, disguised as introspection. Off nobodies "uh-huh", "Yes", "you're right" and the like, designed to maintain a conversation, words. Should in fact help. SMS become more demanding, nachalne, natolive. They begin to glimmer hints, prompts, and the phrase "but if".
As soon as the face, held me over - I got the call I need to replicas and writing in response to one - standard phrase. It's time to score it in the templates. "You should not unduly fascinated and nourish hopes" - why not a bureaucratic ideal stamp?
How do I tell them what I think? What I am not interested in their suede boots and dreams about cars and the rest of the Canaries? What is interesting to discuss issues such as their friends - razvedenoj? Their ex? The only woman that I really interesting - and which, I think, understands me, is three hundred miles from me and not even every day get in touch? What people should be like, and opposites don't attract? It is useless - I understand that, and because I have to be just, without explanation, ill. Otherwise their disease go into the next stage.
What they needed from me? So I replaced their husbands in their usual way of life? Meet their set acquired during marriage programs? To devour me, to digest in the porridge of your thoughts and thoughts, to destroy, to compress the steel hoops, how to draw an oak barrel? So I dutifully went to work - not work like that, and to earn another inexpensive family trip in a hot, dirty and sweaty Egypt, or a new car? That made the house a full Cup?
No.
The phone call. The determinant helpfully inserts the number of the next ladies that are in a mad, convulsive search. "Let's go for a walk? "she asks. "Do you want " I say.
They have nothing to say on this...
Source:
Lady.ru
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