A "zone" from the face-guard VeVeshnika, "Sanctuary" - on behalf of the guide ...
:)>

Well, he worked as a security guard at some northern regions, but this episode.

He served in the srocheuyu explosives, protected area.

I sometimes, when I want to brag , I have a crown episode .
I say, " first published in the newspaper " New American ", when its editor was Sergei Dovlatov ."

Damn, looks at me as if this young , especially females ...

She , of course, unaware that it is unlikely Sergei Donatovich view the entire room before the publication of materials, but tschu the hope that by looking through the exit ...

Suitcase. With Dovlatov.
 

In OVIR this bitch to me and says:
      - Each departing relies three suitcases. Such is the established norm. There is a special order of the ministry.
      Object did not make sense. But of course, I replied:
      - Only three suitcases? What to do with things?
      - For example?
      - For example, with my collection of racing cars?
      - Sell - without delving, responded official,
      Then added, frowning slightly:
      - If you are dissatisfied with something, write a statement.
      - I'm happy - I say.
      After prison, I was all happy.
      - Well, so and behave modestly ...
      A week later, I piled things. And as it turned out, was enough for me a single suitcase.
      I nearly burst into tears of pity. After all, I was thirty-six years. Eighteen of them I work. Something I earn, I buy. I speak as I imagined a property. And the result - one suitcase. Moreover, the rather small size. It turns out that I am a beggar? How did this happen?!
      Books? But, basically, I had forbidden books. Which does not pass Customs. I had to give them to friends along with the so-called archive.
      Manuscript? I have been sent to the West by secret ways.
      Furniture? Desk, I took a pawnshop. Chairs took Chegin artist, who had previously treated boxes. The rest I threw away.
      And left with one suitcase. The suitcase was a plywood covered with a cloth with nickel-plated fasteners on the corners. The castle was inactive. I had to tie my suitcase clothesline.
      Once I went with him to summer camp. On the cover was printed in ink: "The younger group. Dovlatov Sergei." Beside someone kindly scribbled: "indiscriminate man." The fabric has broken in several places.
      From the inside cover was glued photos. Rocky Marciano, Armstrong, Joseph Brodsky, Lollobrigida in a transparent dress. The customs official was trying to tear Lollobrigida nails. As a result, only scratched.
      But Brodsky did not touch. Just ask - who is it? I told him that a distant relative ...
      Sixteenth of May I was in Italy. He lived in Rome hotel "Dinah." Suitcase slid under the bed.
      Soon received any royalties from Russian journals. Bought blue sandals, jeans, flannel shirts and four linen. Suitcase, I never opened it.
      Three months later, he moved to the United States. In New York City. At first he lived at the "Rio". Then his friends in Flushing. Finally, rented an apartment in a decent area. Suitcase placed in the far corner of the closet. Have not started the clothesline.
      Four years have passed. Restored our family. Daughter was a young American. He was born son. Grew up and began to misbehave. One day, my wife, derived from the patient, shouted:
      - Go in the closet now!
      My son spent in the closet for about three minutes. Then I released him and asked:
      - Were you scared? You cried?
      And he said:
      - No. I was sitting on a suitcase.
      Then I took out a suitcase. And opened it.
      On top lay a decent double-breasted suit. Per interviews, workshops, lectures and receptions. I think he will fit would be for the Nobel ceremony. Next - poplinovaya shirt and shoes, wrapped in paper. Under them - velvet jacket with artificial fur. On the left - a winter hat fake fur seals. Three pairs of Finnish crepe socks. Chauffeur gloves. Finally - a leather strap officer.
      At the bottom of the suitcase was lying page "Truth" on May eightieth year. The large headline read: "Great teaching - live!". In the center - a portrait of Karl Marx.
      At school I loved to draw leaders of the world proletariat. And especially - Marx. Ordinary blot smeared - already seems to ...
      I looked around the empty suitcase. At the bottom - Karl Marx. On the cover - Brodsky. And between them - was lost, precious, only life.
      I shut my suitcase. Inside the hollow rolled balls of naphthalene. Motley pile of things lying on the kitchen table. That was all that I have made for thirty-six years. For my entire life in his homeland. I thought - is this all? And the answer - yes, that's all.
      And then, as they say, came flooding back memories. Perhaps they were lurking in the folds of the wretched rags. And now broke out. Memories that should be called - "From Marx to Brodsky." Or, let's say - "What I have made." Or, say, simply - "Suitcase" ...
      But, as always, the introduction was delayed.

I remember very well this preface .

"suitcase" - Alexander Rozenbaum :

http://youtu.be/wHo_LD4uQ7A

EMIGRANTS
New Holland area - one of the most picturesque corners of the Leningrad ...
Guide
The sun was rising reluctantly. It hurt chimneys. Threw themselves under the wheels of cars on the cold asphalt. Wandering in the thickets of television antennas.
In the dirty little park and woke up at the same time Chikvaidze Shapovalov.
Oh, how nice popito was yesterday! How loudly sung! What attempts were made to dance! As a dynamic swing prosthesis! How extensively paved trails and tracks the eyes of friendship! How good was covered lezginka Chikvaidze! (Pop up dimes from the pockets, with a slight ringing denying the primacy of matter over spirit.) And as they roamed at night, maintaining a strong home sides, pillars, lights ... Now wake up on a pile of rubble ...
Shapovalov and Chikvaidze porylis in the folds of wrinkled clothes soiled. Fragment was extracted smoked sprat, feather bow rusty apple core. Friends silent breakfast.
They met recently. They rallied around fighting institution of sparkling wines. In close quarters for long quarrel. Summer shoes, calluses on the mind.
- I'll slaughter! - Cried Chikvaidze. (Shapovalov trod on his foot.)
- Do not you, and you - fixed Shapovalov. Then they have long fought on the sidewalk. And suddenly Chikvaidze said loosening the fingers on his throat Shapovalov:
- I remembered where I saw you. At the premiere of Tarkovsky's films in the House ...
Since then, they were inseparable.
House surrounded a small park. The pale sun was rising from behind them. Remains of darkness hid among the garbage.
Friends got up and went outside, fearful April sun-drenched.
- Where are we? - Referring to the first comer, said Chikvaidze.
- The New Holland - calmly replied. Swung at home. Stained the sun slanting facades went up. Pavement rvanuvshis from under their feet,
jumps rushed to the horizontal.
- Wow - Shapovalov said - I like that! In Holland with a hangover wandered!
- Trouble - said Chikvaidze - perish in a foreign country!
- Home - Shapovalov said - do not lose heart. Well, drink. Well, crossed the border. Tell all honestly, maybe, just ...
- I want to go home - said Chikvaidze. - I can not live without Georgia!
- You're in Georgia had never been.
- But all my life I was cooking soup of Borjomi. Friends of silence. Past with a roar swept trams. Whispering softly grown old newspapers for the night.
- Pay attention! - Shouted Chikvaidze. - Here are the monsters! Black led to lynch!
And it's true. On a crowded street, towering over the crowd, went black. His hands gripped by two slender blonde ...
- We will secretly make their way home - said Chikvaidze.
- The poor will help, - has responded Shapovalov.
They crossed the bridge. Then past the pharmacy and colorful market.
- I loathe the Turkish shore - sincerely deduced Chikvaidze.
- Africa and I do not need - echoed Shapovalov.
Friends went to the waterfront. Turned on busy street. Glittering shop windows. Melted ice cream. Women smiled and traffic lights.
- Look What a blessing! - Suddenly exclaimed Shapovalov.
- Living well - assented Chikvaidze.
- And how to dress!
- It's - the West!
- Around the asphalt! Full of cars! And the sun?
- You bet! Then this is followed! There was a pause. She broke the Shapovalov.
- Datiko, I want to talk to you.
- I.
- Do you despise me, do not you be?
- No. Do you?
- Maybe that ... Well, what is it? .. Shelters ask ... Again, the private trade ...
- Night restaurants!
- Laws of the jungle!
- The triumph of spirituality!
- Cowboy movies!
- Moral and ethical expansion! - Chikvaidze blinked ...
A minute later the friends, hugging, marching towards the square. There, taking out his handful of noodles, breakfast guardian of order, colors reminiscent of bullfinch.

Added after 8 minutes
Sergei Dovlatov
Lucky
I have an older brother, who always carries.

He was born three years before me and all my life I Tapping.

When he was ten years old, he fell into a deep well dried, lightly scratched knee, but found at the bottom of the pit silver clock that ticked.

Every year my brother was lucky all the more.

He had only to buy a lottery ticket, and he certainly won the right road thing. I'm in my entire life has won only once - Orenburg shawl. And why should I when I was single? I had to give my wife a handkerchief brother.

If my brother was late for the plane, the plane is delayed due to bad weather.

At exhibitions, it is always millions of visitors, and handed him the prize.

My brother was lucky, in small ways and in the main. He lucky.

But then once he was attacked by robbers. It was at night, not a soul around. He began to resist. The bandits surrounded him. One of them hit his brother with a knife in the stomach. "ER" took away her brother to the hospital. I was standing near the surgery room and was ready for the worst. Finally came the doctor.

- Your brother was lucky - he said - he cut a bandit chronic appendicitis.

- Hooray! - I shouted, jumped for joy, slipped on the tile floor and broke his leg.

( artcol, I, too, that the link is not to your taste,
Kaffsky, if as a musical illustration dovlatovskogo Suitcase, then just agree with the last sentence of that "empty bag" :)> )

For the good mood and pleasant dreams:


Classic Michael Zoshchenko

Aristocrat

Grigory Ivanovich sighed loudly and wiped his chin with the sleeve and began to tell:
- I, my brothers, do not like women that are wearing hats. If a woman in a hat, if her stockings fildekosovye or mopsik on her hands, or gold tooth, then such an aristocratic woman and not me at all, but a smooth place.
And once I, of course, was fond of one aristocrat. Walked with her and drove to the theater. In the theater where it all happened. In the theater, and it has deployed its ideology throughout the volume.

So we had parted.
I do not like aristocrats.

1923

Those who love Dovlatova will be interesting this post - New York Dovlatova.

New York, which saw him Dovlatov from his apartment window . Folder on the windowsill Leningrad manuscript " Reserve " at the bottom of the area in which he lived, and on the horizon the cemetery where buried .