The 1st buyer (in a hoarse voice breaking from the cold, loudly so that it could be heard through the wind blowing away the replicas). Hello there! Give Parliament a couple of packs, Dirol blue and a Context pack.
Lydia is moving something there, putting something in her stall.
The buyer takes out his wallet from his inner pocket, counts the money, looks again into the window, in which something already appears from his order.
The 1st buyer (in a hoarse voice breaking from the cold, loudly so that it could be heard through the wind blowing away the replicas). Yeah. How much?
Lydia shows the amount on the calculator to the client.
The 1st buyer (in a hoarse voice breaking from the cold, loudly so that it could be heard through the wind blowing away the replicas). I see, I understand, now.
He gives the money to the saleswoman, accepts the change and the goods, and leaves.
Lydia closes the window.
The music is growing in sound again.
A few seconds later, the second buyer comes. This is already some kind of drunkard. Dressed like a bum. The hat is askew, the scarf is some kind of old, scary, shabby covers half of his face. We don't see what kind of person he is. He staggers from what he has already managed to use, goes and tries to count some crumpled bills, some pennies on the move. His money is falling, not all, partially. He tries to find them, raise them, count them again. And now he is already at the window of the stall.
The music stops.
The buyer knocks on the window.
Lydia opens it.
The 2nd buyer (in an alcoholic squeaky voice with the obsequiousness inherent in this type of people at the right moment for them). Lidonka, hello.
Lydia (roughly). What kind of Leader am I to you? You and I didn't drink at the bruderschaft. My name is Lydia. What do you need? Is there not enough money for a bottle again?
The 2nd buyer (in an alcoholic squeaky voice with the obsequiousness inherent in this type of people at the right moment for them). Uh… you know, literally fifteen rubles. Can't you help me out? Sell it, eh? I'll bring it in tomorrow, that's the cross!
He crosses himself significantly, while staggering.
Lydia (rudely, displeased). Ooooooo…, how you've already got me with your "not enough, help me out" here.
The 2nd buyer (in an alcoholic squeaky voice with the obsequiousness inherent in this type of people at the right moment). For the last time, please, Lead, well, don't refuse, be a friend …