"meaningful and full of epithets." —Then… then, and then what happened?" Oh, yes… there was a chase. I
don't know why, but I was running away. Maybe from a
hipster, maybe from cops, or maybe from guilt and toxic
comments on Instagram. I just remember climbing up on the monument to Yuri Gagarin and starting to read Brodsky's poems to him.
7.
It was unforgettable and sometimes unintelligible. I think he would have been happy for me if he hadn't been a bronze and hadn't been stuck in the Soviet past.
I took another sip of coffee. – The last thing I remember is the couriers from the Delivery Club carrying me home. I think they confused me with a large order of food.
Ignat burst out laughing, finally looking up from his
MacBook and giving me a piercing look. "Couriers?" Seriously?
– It couldn't be more serious. They also tried to take tips from me later. And here I am. With a headache, guilt, and
the question of how I'm going to explain to the boss why I overslept the morning brunch with his wife, which was scheduled two months ago.
I sighed, finishing my coffee. – In general, Ignat, the moral of this fable is: never, do you hear? Never tell me that I can only drink "a couple of craft ales."
Ignat smiled, snapping his MacBook shut. "I'll keep that in mind. But, frankly, I'd be interested to know what hacks that IT guy knows.… 8.
I shrugged my shoulders. – We won't find out, obviously.…
God, I was exhausted. And those black eyes of mine… Half of it just slipped my mind. But Ignat didn't stop
encouraging me all this time, while I was just trying to
come to my senses. Summoning all my willpower, I ran to a meeting where I was clearly no longer expected.…
But well… sometimes you have to take responsibility for your actions, I thought, running away in a taxi.…
9.
November 28, 2023
–Damn, Ignat, don't even start," I moaned, leaning back in my chair in the coffee shop and massaging my temples. Six months have passed since our last conversation, and,
frankly, I hoped that this topic would forever remain buried in the depths of my hangover consciousness. – I'm still ashamed.
Ignat, who was sitting opposite, sipped his latte with habitual calmness and a funny grin and gloated: – Come
on, admit it, were you waiting for me to ask? Six months have passed, and it's time for the annual report on your drunken adventures.