A 50+ daughter with an old mother 80+ and a daughter's husband 50+ were driving in the compartment. I heard this stinging speech, stinging intonations, and devaluing vocabulary many years ago on TV in Malakhov's Let Them Talk show. At that time, it seemed to me that the participants of the program were taught to sort things out in such a wild manner. Then I just turned off the TV. And then I didn't have anywhere to go. Grandma could not hear well, so they spoke loudly. - Look at yourself? Why would you want to brush your hair? - Damn you bald, not a taxi. - Did I forget who he is? - When did you even remember anything? Grown-up people, dressed decently, but this wave of aggression that has hit our coupe sank my heart. When you have to be near them, listening to this swearing, which they call a conversation over a cup of tea in the background, you get the feeling that they are the very majority that watches themselves on Malakhov's TV, recognize and are happy. TV is a mirror for people. And it gets scary when I imagine that their old people and children, subordinates and colleagues or strangers who may not have pleased them in some way depend on the will of these people. I remembered “Cursed Days” by I. Bunin. No, they didn't transfer. There are far more of them than we can imagine from our Facebook and Moscow location.” The wife of architect Malinovsky, stupid and head-on, who had nothing to do with the theater in her whole life, is now a theater commissioner: only because she and her husband are Gorky's friends from Nizhny Novgorod. The Georgian said: “Now I do my best to avoid going outside without special need. And not out of fear of anyone getting hit in the neck, but out of fear of seeing the current street faces.” Looking at my fellow travelers, I understood that they should not even be compared to the characters in the movie “Parasites”. There, everyone in the family is holding on to each other, helping, dragging them into the cracks for a better life. And these are ready to bite each other's throats at the smallest detail. It makes no difference to them whether they are theirs or strangers. And they have such a melancholy in their eyes... It would seem that I need Gekuba, but I'm going to remember her face now. This kind of habalka could get in my way, on yours or your children's. During my vacation in Riga, I encountered such spontaneous manifestations of aggression several times: one woman hit her teenage son on the cheeks on the street, and another boorish man in a store in Riga wouldn't let me see the sweater until I “definitely tell her what I want”. And all these women were subtly similar to each other and my travel companion - they had perfect hair and manicure, but their faces were “street”...
.png)
