Shameover Elena Sokolskaya

Opening remarks

I could talk for a long time about how alcohol intoxication has a bad effect on our health, etc. But

you must admit that some of the most memorable and funny stories in our lives occur precisely at

those moments when we are relaxed and defenseless.

At the same time, we are happy and carefree, isn't it funny? Then we can conclude: is alcohol so bad if it

is moderate and generally makes us who we are? So I

thought, why not tell you a story about what can happen to completely ordinary guys on a

completely ordinary day or holiday when they decide to celebrate a particular occasion? And that

sometimes things can get out of control or just

become unexpected, which will change their ideas about the world in which they live. This story is

about two friends: Ignat and Igor. In general, they are outstanding and funny guys who, in general, have already managed to get settled in life.

1.

Igor

Igor is of medium height, with a slightly careless hairstyle (which he unsuccessfully tries to style), with brown eyes, in which a mixture of irony and fatigue

often flashes. He usually dresses in comfortable but low-key clothes: jeans, T-shirts with silly prints

(which are given to him for the holidays) and his old favorite leather jacket. He often wears glasses, which give him the appearance of a tired intellectual.

He is a skeptic by nature, but deep down he is a romantic who believes in miracles (although he denies it in every possible way). He has a sharp mind and a

sarcastic sense of humor, with which he often tries to

hide his fear and insecurity. In normal situations, he prefers to stay away, but at critical moments he

shows unexpected courage and resourcefulness. He's pretty lazy and doesn't like change, but he's always

ready to help his friends, even if it means getting into another crazy adventure. He works… as an archivist in the city library.

2.

The choice of profession is determined by several factors:

Love of books: Igor really loves books, their smell, texture, and the stories they hold. Working in the library allows him to be surrounded by his favorite subjects.

Calmness and routine: the work of an archivist is a fairly calm and routine activity, which generally suits Igor, who strives to avoid stress and unpredictability (until, of course, he is dragged into another crazy adventure).

Access to knowledge: working in the library provides Igor with access to a huge amount of knowledge. This can be useful when investigating another paranormal case (for example, when you need to find information about trolls, unicorns, or Baba Yaga).

Stability: Yes, unfortunately, working as an archivist does not bring a lot of money. But Igor has enough for a modest existence, books and beer. The main thing is stability and the opportunity to do what you love.

The ideal place for reflection: the silence of the library encourages reflection, which helps Igor analyze the

events happening to him and come up with plans to save the world (or at least to save himself from another trouble).

3.

In general, working as an archivist is not just a random

choice, but a conscious decision by a person who values

silence, knowledge and books. And, oddly enough, it is this calm and routine work that allows Igor to be ready for the most incredible adventures that constantly happen to him. Ignat

Ignat is a boring IT guy who is generally optimistic and understanding of his friend and is an amazing listener. He is tall, handsome, with blue eyes. He often wears

comfortable clothes and is generally practical. He chose his profession for the money it brings him. He always

treats his friend with understanding and skepticism. He will always help and will never turn away at the right moment.

And so

And then one morning, after a stormy night, they met to listen, as always, to these funny and sometimes absurd stories, in which you, dear readers, will also take part, albeit as a simple spectator…

4.

May 23, 2023.

–Oh, buddy, don't ask," I croaked, burrowing deeper into the armchair and taking a sip of scalding coffee from my

favorite thermocup with the "Lord of the Rings" logo. The

morning sun beat mercilessly on the window, and I tried my best not to look in his direction. My poor skull was

throbbing to the beat of the alarm clock, which I had set for

damn 7 a.m., having completely forgotten to turn it off. —

Yesterday was… an epic evening. Epic in the most catastrophic sense of the word.

My friend Ignat raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, looking at me through the screen of his MacBook. —I knew you weren't going to do any good when you said you were 'just' going to have a couple of craft ales at the Lame Unicorn."

–Ignat…" I chuckled. – My friend, the "couple of craft ales" turned into a ritual drinking of tequila with the bartender,

who, as it turned out, used to work as an IT specialist and

knows a couple of hacks that might interest you in general…

but although… okay, let's leave it at that. Anyway, after

the tequila, I felt like I could fly. Well, I was sure that I could fly and shoot a small stream for Instagram.

5.

I rolled my eyes and put my hand to my forehead, remembering what happened next. – The first thing I

decided to do was prove it to the police officers who were patrolling the street. They weren't thrilled, you know.

Especially when I tried to record a TikTok with them to demonstrate my love for the law and the patriotism that

was pouring out of me… or was it something else?… Well, let's not recall this feeling, perhaps.

Ignat chuckled without looking up from the code. "You and the cops?" It's always a ridiculous sight.aragraph text

I sighed. – It gets worse. As you know, I've always wanted to learn how to play the ukulele. And so, passing by a local club where someone was trying to throw a Hawaiian party, I heard

music coming from there. Of course, I decided that the world was eager to hear my improvisation, which I would later post on YouTube, and the whole world would be able to see it.

"Oh, no," I said.… You're kidding, right? Ignat said almost without emotion, but his face clearly expressed bewilderment as he continued to work.

6.

– Oh, yes! I snatched the ukulele out of the hands of a poor hipster, who, by the way, looked quite scared and confused, wearing a strange Hawaiian shirt and with a

pierced nose. Although, I guess I seemed strange myself, not fitting into the dress code of this event. And he

started playing. What did I play? I don't know! It sounded

like a grinder grinding on rusty iron, but I was sure it was a future hit. However, the audience did not agree with me.

Plastic cups, napkins, and, I think, one vape were thrown at me. I'm not sure, really, but it was definitely smoking. I rubbed my ears. – But then I became friends with the homeless. They appreciated my avant-garde style. It seems. By the way, they had their own boombox, so^>t cooperation was inevitable.

Ignat shook his head. – Homeless people are always a colorful audience. – His answers were always

"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.