"Viktor Pelevin. Generation P (fragment, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

obtained 2 new qualities. The first one was cynicism, endless like a view
from the Ostankino TV tower "the broadcast tower in Moscow, ~1/3 mile (537
meters) high". The second quality was amazing and was hard to explain. It
was enough for Tatarsky to just glance at the customer's hands to figure
out whether it's possible to shortchange them and for how much exactly,
whether it's possible to be rude with them or not, how likely will it be
to get a false bill from them and whether it's okay to push such a bill
back himself together with a change. No clear system existed here:
sometimes a fist looking like a hairy watermelon appeared in the window
but it was obvious that it's perfectly okay to send its owner to all six
directions. And sometimes Tatarsky's heart almost stopped in alarm when he
saw a slim woman's hand with neatly manicured nails.
Once somebody asked Tatarsky for a pack of Davidoff. The hand that put a
crumpled hundred thousand bill on the counter was not interesting.
Tatarsky noted a fine, hardly noticeable quiver of fingers, glanced at
accurately polished nails and figured that the customer takes too much
stimulants. It probably could be a bandit of some middle level or a
businessman, or, as it happened most often - something in between.
- What kind of Davidoff? Regular or lights? - asked Tatarsky.
- Lights, - answered the customer, bent down and looked inside.
Tatarsky started - it was his LitInstitute coursemate Sergey Morkovin.
Once he used to be one of the brightest personalities of their course and
copied Mayakovsky - he worn a yellow sweatshirt and wrote provoking
verses. He hardly changed, just a neat parting have appeared in his hair,
and in it - several gray hairs.
- Vova? - asked Morkovin in surprise. - What are you doing here?
Tatarsky couldn't think of any answer.
- I see, - said Morkovin. - Let's get the hell out of here, now.
After not much persuasion Tatarsky locked his kiosk and followed Morkovin
to his car glancing at Gussain's wagon worriedly. They drove to "The Moon
Temple", an expensive Chinese restaurant, had a nice dinner and plenty of
drink. Then Morkovin told what was he up to lately, namely - advertisement
business.
- Vova, - he was saying grabbing Tatarsky's hand and with a sparkle in
his eyes, - It's a very special times now. Never before it was so, and
will never be so again. It's a rush like on Klondike. Everything will be
taken in two years, while now there's a real opportunity to fit into this
system coming right from the street. Just look, in New York they are ready
to sacrifice half of their lives just to meet the right people at lunch,
while here...
Much of what Morkovin was talking about wasn't clear to Tatarsky. The
only thing he had got firmly from the talk was the functional scheme of
business of the initial capital gain epoch and its relations with
advertisement business.
- In general, - said Morkovin, - it happens approximately like this. A
guy gets a loan. For this loan he rents an office, buys Jeep Cherokee and
eight boxes of Smirnoff. When Smirnoff is over, he realizes that the Jeep
is trashed, the office is vomited over and it's time to return the loan.
So, he gets another loan - 3 times bigger than the previous one. From it
he pays off the first loan, buys Jeep Grand Cherokee and 16 boxes of