GUYS IN A BAR

4

"Hi, Mike!"

"Hi, Ivan! Where's Debbie?"

"She's not coming. She sort of signed an insurance policy. Didn't want me to hold her hair in case there's a vomit party. It's out of fashion. Not sixties anymore, you know!"

"It was in my list!" Mike said. "We haven't seen for a year!"

"And she ordered we to help ourselves with Ukrainian girls who need citizenship."

"OK. She hasn't said that!" Mike said.

"Yeah! She didn't. She's got the flu."

"Sorry about that! Let's celebrate her absence then! What about vodka shots?"

"It's a bar! We can't drink beer!"

"So! A bottle of vodka imbibed with drunkards' air?"

"Sounds Russian and fair!" Ivan said.

"May I instruct the waitress to arrange some five shots in front of you and five more in front of me?"

"Make it thirteen! Six by six for us and an extra one foe her when she's filling the shots!"

"Are you superstitious, Ivan?"

"No! It takes a lot of time!"

"Yeah! But it's like a club!"

"It's worse than a club! It's a habit!"

"What do you mean?"

"OK. Imagine someone superstitious of doors! I guess he's got two rituals – one to walk in and another to walk out. Your friend asked you to invite this man to his house for a dinner because your friend's wife likes monkeys. Moreover, she wants to public him on the Internet. So she opens the door at the arranged hour with her recording device on and well-hidden and what do you think she sees?"

"Surprise me!"

"She sees a healthy looking man of medium height... stop!"

"What stop?"

"Stop because here ended the good manners and began curiosity! First thing, the legs of his baggy trousers are rolled up! The left one to the knee, and the right one to the shin. Second thing, his socks are different colors, of course. But, we've got good news. His upper body could bring him to a dinner party held by the Queen! White shirt coated with a nice trendy black jacket, red rose coming out of his heart pocket."

"Do I want to know more?"

"Very probably! Now the guest sees the housewife. He's eyeing her from head to feet and put out the inevitable squeaky rubber ball from his back pocket. He starts squeaking with the ball with one hand while pulling a lobe of one ear with the other. She's a blonde! Squeak-squeak! She's got blue eyes! Squeak! She's wearing a gold chain with a cross hanging down. Squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak! An evening dress! Squeak-squeak! But it's not red! Squeak! And so on! This process is accompanied with so many nods and shakes of the head as the performed squeaks. Nod marks approval and shake – disapproval. Then he stashes back the ball and enters the house chuffing like a steam engine. Do you know why this twenty-five years old man's been converted to a five-years old kid?"

"I haven't the least idea!"

"Because he's been gambling thirty-five dollars at online casinos every week for the last three years. He still is waiting for the jackpot!"

"Good to know that! Now! Vodka! I propose a toast for the best cicerone I ever had in my life!"

"Thank you, Mike! It's always been a pleasure to show you the way! Why do you think I was superstitious?"