All matches are random.

Hello, dear reader. The phrase “based on real events” will be a little out of place here, and, nevertheless, at the core there is something of what really happened, the benefit is not with me. However, I will write, as always, in the first person. So I'm doing better. I literally learned the details from second-hand.

Lord FSBeshniki, pass by. Look for analogies with real people is not worth it. None of the names does not coincide, and this case was not in Russia, but in one of the neighboring republics.

And yet - I'm afraid that the “boob theme” I’ll open here for fans of the genre. Here history and presentation are more important. Recently, I was criticized (unfortunately, quite rightly) that I had a pattern of creativity in my work. Let this tale be a small experiment, an attempt to offer the reader something other than excitement. So relax, make yourself comfortable, and let me take about 20-30 minutes of your time.

This occasion has happened not so long ago, and the memories still burn me with “fire of insult and humiliation”.

During the course, I was considered one of the prettiest girls (I hope, deservedly), and I was often plowed by the administration at meetings of all sorts of delegations there as a “university person”. I had to serve bread and salt to some stingy exotic foreigners in a stupid pseudo-national dress, it’s good, even without a kokoshnik, to serve tricks (bring, bring, carry), dangle after the supplement to the scrolling figures from science when the languages ​​are untied and the hands are spread. It didn’t really bother me: I collected more pluses from karma than minuses. Here you will be credited with automatic rifles, and free passes to the pool, and the opportunity to have a good salt lecture under cover. Before the harassment of these very leaders did not reach, the maximum - sticky sidelong glances and clumsy attempts to slap me on the soft side, if it is absolutely New Year.

However, on the eve I was not summoned to him, but by the rector himself. Usually, with orders, I took out the locks of the chair, and here it was clear that the sun itself deigned! During the two years of study, he hardly exchanged a few words with me, although of course he constantly saw me on these of his parties. I didn’t want to go anywhere: the day before we were celebrating a girlfriend's birthday, and today I was still, to put it mildly, unpresentable. But what to do? Got strayed.

The castle chair was already there and visibly worried. The rector was sitting in his chair at a huge table on which I could sleep well, and was darker than a cloud.

- Hello, - I quietly said hello, shifting from foot to foot at the entrance to the office. Even though I was sure that I hadn’t been anywhere, it somehow became disturbing. Now I bitterly regretted that being late for the first couple today, I didn’t make up and pulled the topic without a bra (I didn’t find it stupidly - I spent the night with my boyfriend with a friend, the very same birthday girl). We had to generally pickle! Yes, and the train from me probably was not charming today, although I usually do not abuse it.

- Are you Lena? Sit down - the rector, Viktor Alekseevich, frowning slightly, cast a spell over my performance, but left it without comment. Experienced person. He pointed to a visitor chair across from him. My department head stayed nervously treading behind my back. I sank into a soft chair, meticulously smoothing my short skirt, holding my knees tight, trying to breathe to the side.

- Lena, you usually help us with all sorts of activities. I hope you will help now, - the rector was still gloomy, which, apparently, was his variant of nervousness.

“I’m listening,” I said in a voice with all my appearance, portraying a hot readiness to help my native university.

- Do you know that the finale of the “Wreath of Friendship” will be held in our assembly hall? - Alekseevich drummed his fingers on the table, twisting his fleshy skull toward the assembly hall (by the way, not in that direction).

The Friendship Wreath, or as the students called it, The Funerary Wreath, was an international movement with songs, dances, and other crap that took place in our region once a year. Usually representatives of the former Soviet republics, Poles and Frenchmen gathered at it. This year they promised to drive the Germans. Outside politics and all that. I already tusila once at the closing of this Wreath, last year.

- Yeah? - I hesitantly stretched. Even it was clear to me what kind of golovnuk plopped on the head of the rector, and I experienced something like sympathy. Although now I was more interested in what role these conspirators are preparing for me.

“We have already held events of such scale,” the rector shook his second chin proudly, as if I didn’t care, and nothing would have happened ... But the governor is expected to arrive! And with him, perhaps, some from Moscow.

And he pointedly bulged his whitish eyes with red streaks.

I wanted to go to the toilet, and I had a little hesitated, changing position.

- Yes, yes ... We are also nervous! - Alekseevich knowingly nodded his balding head. Behind my back, judging by the sounds, the head of the department depicted agreement. He finally stopped looming abroad of my peripheral vision, and materialized beside him, crouching in the second chair. Sensitively touching me by the hand and looking into my eyes, he spoke:

- Lena, you can handle it!

I wanted to use the toilet more and more, and I really hoped I could handle it. I opened my mouth to assure these hysterics that everything would be type-top, they say, not in the first, but they were on their own wave:

“We got rid of the program with the administration,” Alekseevich looked at the fax roll with disapproval. Petrovich (head of the department) shook his head readily - in general, here ... so, this is all of your concern ...

He ran his eyes over the lines.

“Ah, here,” finally, after reading something that was necessary, he grabbed the leaf with plump fingers and began to tear it. - Here about you.

I, forgetting about the toilet, rounding my eyes, looked at this know-how in information processing. When a crumpled strip of paper remained in his hands, he stretched it in my direction, the rest of them carefully crumpled up on his desk. Petrovich, who was sitting closer, blew himself up with a piece of paper and handed it to me.

I looked down at the paper, trying to comprehend what was written, while feeling that the views of the peasants were running along my legs without stockings. It hurt to focus. Stupidly moving my eyes along the stretched fax lines, I finally figured out that it was about escorting the “Person No. 1” (campaign, the governor) during the extras. According to the program, it turned out that I had to constantly hang out next to this “Face No. 1”, and during the final song of the concert, which the regional choir of boys-bunnies had to perform under the festival guests on stage, to dance with their ward same dancing happy faces (I had no doubt that this would mainly be his guard). When the meaning of what was written reached me, I shivered a bit, imagining myself waltzing with this crocodile (I saw it in a box) in the light of spotlights under the cameras. Basically, no big deal. The main thing is that I did not need any public speaking. Long words only upset me. And to smile and move your booty, even in such a company, you don’t need a big mind.

I shrugged.

- Cope.

The rector, with the sound of a balloon being blown out, exhaled and even went limp in his chair from relief. Wow! Did I really have the opportunity to refuse? Cool, democracy, straight!

- That's good. The main thing is that you must understand the level of responsibility, - Alekseevich pointedly rubbed his nose. Now he was not so gloomy, rather - businesslike.

- Mikhail Petrovich will give you the phone responsible for the organization. Be sure to call and clarify the details. All that concerns you. You never know what ... - the rector again buried himself in crumpled pieces of paper on the table, - for example, it’s not clear to me here ... From what moment you should be next to him. Since coming or only on stage ...

He, having squinted his eyes with zeal, shook the paper with his fingernail, as if from this the writing could become clearer:

- They write ...