My friend - a big, terry, scoundrel - in the distant "stagnant" times loved to "shoot" women on the streets. There was no money for restaurants and, most importantly, there was no desire to sit in the smoke and stall from the noise, because at that time the orchestras did not play, but rustled. We wanted to whisper, but not shout in the ear compliments. Even dancing a languid slow dance, clasping the lady for a growing waist, and pressing her powerful bust to the chest, it was impossible to whisper in her ear a tender word - just shout! Yes, and financial costs! ... In short, we, poor students, who sometimes bragged with their poverty, adapted themselves to hunt in the streets. I, observing and analyzing the "work" of a friend, hastily developed a theory of successful dating on the streets and in buses. The theory was repeatedly tested in practice and included only three points:

The first point is “a sharp eye”, the second is “impudent equanimity”, the third is “thin calculation”

We walked through the streets and trained the "eye". We have learned at a glance to determine who is who. This one is hungry, will go anywhere, this one has everything in order with an intimate life, you shouldn’t waste time, that one has no one (shoots eyes), but the calculating one is obviously looking only for the groom. There is no sex in the eyes. The other one has eyes, like amethyst, doused in oil, but cunning. This anywhere will not go, most likely, will lead to itself and will acquaint with mum. But this one is just right! She doesn’t have a boyfriend — she looks at everyone with an appreciating interest — the look is pretty fucking-ready even in hell, and at the same time she is young, beautiful, with a beautiful figure, slender legs and an ass on departure.

Having found the necessary candidate with the help of a “sharp eye”, we passed to the second point. Wearing equanimity on the physiognomy — in order not to get lost, not to sharpen, not to smile ingratiatingly, but not to fall into vulgarity — we, after waiting for the right moment, approached the victim. I was slim, tall and beautiful (now fat, settled to the ground and erysipelas ... in three days ...), so the ladies pecked only on me. My friend did not have any external virtues, but he had the highest (for the time being) male virtues. If you squeeze your fingers into a fist and mentally cut off a little finger with a bone, this will be the head of my friend. His name was ... well, let's say, Victor. Although we preferred in those days, to call each other by patronymic names. He - let's say, Borisych, I - ... well, let's say, Ivanovich. So, the head - a fist, without a little finger, the diameter of the trunk - exactly the same as the diameter of the wrist. Well, the length is appropriate.

But women found out about it later. In the beginning, your humble servant acted as bait. The “impudent equanimity” allowed us on the bus not to pay attention to unwitting listeners, calmly approach and speak any banality on the streets. The girls, from those who were spotted by the “sharp eye,” were amazed by our confidence and without recourse agreed to meet each other.

Then came into effect the "thin calculation". And as a sub point - “stepped trick”. If a woman, even "without complexes" to say - went to the fuck, she will be offended. If you say - let's go for a walk - to agree, although of course, he knows how this walk will end. This is the first step. Further. If you say - go to the bushes, we will fuck - it will not work, even if it really wants to. But if you say - go "to the bosom of nature" beer, drink, talk - go. The second step. Well, and so on. We did not rape anyone. I - anyway. And a friend ... well, he is a scoundrel! ..

The friend was really a scoundrel. Could what is called "sell for a penny." His eternally wet, thick lips would have done honor to any Negro. Close-set oily eyes - always fornately snooping around. But for the “goblin” - an indispensable partner. Therefore, I tolerated, to a certain extent, all his meanness and abominations.

That evening about which I want to tell, we "removed" two "chicks", and went "on the nature".Wine - vermouth. Glass - stolen in the machine, splashing soda. Snack - shortbread. Everything is as it should be for students of those years, as well as for bums and blasts. We, fortunately, belonged to the first. They drank, sat on the grass, and mine suddenly gathered home. I do not remember her face or name at all, and it does not matter. She dumped. I brought the failed friend to the road, stopped a taxi and sent to hell. Then begins what I, in fact, wanted to tell about. Then they did not know the word voyeurism, but people were with the same weaknesses. I didn't want to go home. “And I’ll see how Borisitch is managed there!”

The evening has already covered a light haze of bushes and trees. This warm summer evening, covering the embracing couple in the park with a cozy twilight, allowing the whip to collect bottles after picnics "in nature", but I promised to give you feelings previously unknown! In the word "pry", there is something forbidden, shameful. Unworthy guy. All - fuck, and you pry! A shame! Another thing, the word "voyeurism"! It is not a shame, it is pretty often in the internet. I didn’t know that word then, but I didn’t feel shame, maybe because at that time we had new friends almost daily. Not scary and spy. After all, tomorrow - I will do what I’ll observe now.

It's getting dark. A light haze spreads between the bushes - someone ignited the fire. I’m going about, in the direction where Borisovich and my girlfriend should sit. Sit? Maybe already lie? A friend, her name was Rita, that evening she drank a little at the prom - she graduated from a technical school - then she decided to take a walk with a fellow student, then we turned up ...

“Her dress should turn white in the gloom,” I think, “I will find it before it gets dark.” Rita was dressed for a prom white dress, almost like a wedding. And she already had a fiancé. What the hell pulled her to relax, to walk for an unknown person, who knows where, and even in the twilight ?! Here is a classmate rightly done - knocked over, feeling the smell of roast. And Rita - did not feel. Her head was spinning — from wine, from dancing in the evening, from freedom, from life, in which there would be no tedious study now. I decided to take another walk ... and met Borisych.

I walk, slowly, looking at the bushes, looking around - did I pass by - trying to remember the path along which we climbed into the thicket. No, nowhere does Rita's “bride's” dress whiten, inaudibly and voices - neither the ringing woman’s nor the muffled, as if from the grave, Borisychev. I stop, looking at the darkened bushes for the last time, and am going to turn. No luck, then watch.

But I hear - like, voices away. They? Or maybe those who are not far from playing around with a fire here? Need to check. Stepping like a cine ninja, walking on soft grass, pulling my neck. Like, something whitens? A little closer - it is: they are. Sit on the grass, quietly talking. Staying behind the bush, I also sat down - in God’s worn jeans, God himself told me to sit on the grass. Smoke is not a risk - they smoke, they will see the light, then goodbye the whole idea. Borisych, of course, and the ear will not lead. But girl Rita can ... what? Offended? Why? Simply, with the witness will not be given.

I sit, my head sticks out of the bushes, I observe. A friend may see - he doesn’t care. And girl Rita - sits back and that's good. Beautiful girl Rita ... lives somewhere there ... These are poems or something, for children ... Yes, and not Rita, it was in verses, it seems ... Wow! He already flunked her!

I suddenly felt my heart pounding. So here she is the sweetness of peeping! Hunting! Ambush, disguise, excitement - everything, as it should be on the hunt! Actually, what will I see from afar? Borisych's ass, dancing between white foot legs? Yes, even if he came closer - all the same ass, nothing more. But why suddenly such excitement? I am afraid that they will hear my breath, I try to hold back and because of that, I am probably suffocating.

- Let go! What are you ?! - suddenly angrily exclaims ...