Syedyshev Oleg
Syedyshev Oleg

Humorous essays
Guestbook Contacts

Humorous Essays Based on students' memories

"All have died
except for those who are alive, and those whom we remember"Confucius

Essay 132. Bimbo and, pardon, balls

I've already written more than once about our close friendship with Peter Kozlov (see essay 42. A Guitar, essay 51. Gentlemen of Luck and essay 59. Pilaw on Issyk-Kul). We were not just good acquaintances, we were good friends. When life made us part, and Peter went to continue his study at Tomsk military medical academy after the forth year, we were enthusiastically corresponding. Petka knew practically everything about life of his former student group, and I was informed about his adventures at the academy. And we had made an agreement beforehand that we would not lie to each other. To embellish was all right, that was not lie, that was what made reading easy, entertaining and interesting.

Peter Kozlov in his forth year

Peter Kozlov in his forth year


With that impressions I went to Tomsk to visit Petka and Valera Kaygorodov, and later to Peter's wedding at Belovo (see essay 80. "A Pood of Salt").
But at some stage our correspondence stopped. I knew that Peter had a job placement to Siberia military okrug after his graduation from the academy and served in Novosibirsk. I knew his postal addresses in Novosibirsk and Belovo, where his mother lived. I wrote to those addresses. The letters were not returned, which meant they were delivered, but there were no answers. However being a persistent and a bit adventurous I wrote to the headquarters of the Siberia Military Okrug with practically one question: "Where is Petka?" And just imagine, they answered me. The letter was signed by a real colonel, who said that because of official reasons "we cannot give you the postal address of the medical service lieutenant Peter Alekseyevitch Kozlov now". My first thought was that Petka had become a spy!!! I was treasuring the letter, but later Petka lured it from me. Back then there were no scanning or copying machines.
You can imagine how happy I was, when a letter came from Petka from Novosibirsk, but from a different address to the address of a mental hospital in a village of Pepelino of Kurtamysh district of Kurgan region. I am sorry, but I will make a digression from the topic for a couple of words; I just cannot conceal why the letter from Peter was delivered not to my home address, but to the mental hospital. I was a product of the society, so I believed that to use envelopes with a stamp of the mental hospital was not "theft of social property". It was customary that a cook took food, a constructor took nails, medics had medicines and a head of a psychiatric department also took official envelopes. So Peter's mother gave him the address from a stamp of the hospital's envelope. Yes, I was glad that Peter had not become a spy, that he was alive and sound in spite of a car accident in which he smashed up the "Volga" car he had been given at his wedding.
I was also glad that even though he had been convicted, but sentenced to "work at construction sites of national economy", there used to be a sentence of that kind; he worked as a doctor at a hospital of a machine building factory in Siberia. Just think about it, there was even lack of doctors in Novosibirsk.
So Petka was about to have early release, and he wanted very much to leave Novosibirsk, about which he had not the best memories. I, a kind heart, made an appointment with the head of the mental hospital to talk about Petka.

V.A.Gorshkov, bimbo, Peter and I

V.A.Gorshkov, bimbo, Peter and I


V.A.Gorshkov liked the idea of inviting a doctor to the hospital, he promised an opportunity to specialize in psychiatry for Petka and his supposed wife (the first one had been killed in the car accident) and promised to provide them with a big house as a place to live.
So Petya and his wife came to Pepelino. You won't believe that, but Petka loved everything very much: the work, the place to live and fishing and hunting. And as for his wife... Lyudmila was a daughter of a bureaucrat in Novosibirsk, not a big one, just of a district level, however during socialism a bureaucrat was a bureaucrat, and his family was also infected by the "bureaucrat" virus. So Peter's wife was pretty, elegantly dressed, young, a real bimbo. Petka himself called her that way. Lyudmila liked that. Petka's bimbo was also very nearsighted. I had no idea how much more sensitive hearing ability of a nearsighted person became as the disability's compensation. So now we get to what I wanted to tell you about in the essay. Imagine the following picture: Petka and I are standing at my house, waiting for Lyudmila to come up to us, and she was about thirty meters away from us. At that moment a cattleman was driving a herd of cows to a field. Among the cows there was a huge bull of about a ton and a half.

Bull the producer, though another one

Bull the producer, though another one


Its skin was of color of wet asphalt, which made it even bigger. Petka and I were looking at it and for the first time we saw under the bull's belly literally a big sack. Petka could not help saying to me quietly: "Here are some balls!" And there we heard Lyudmila's ringing voice: "Where, where are the balls?". Saying this, the bimbo was adjusting her glasses as if to have a better look. She was turning her head around looking for balls. What could you expect? She was a bimbo, and that was it.

21 December, 2012

© Copyright: Oleg Syedyshev, 2012
Publishing licence #214040200556

Translated by Viktoria Potykinato content ↑


Copyright © 2001-2024
oleg.syedyshev.name
All rights reserved