Everyone who walked along Tverskaya met on their difficult path of walking pleasure lively guys and girls who with benevolent smiles approached and spoke learned formulas of communication. I study near Tverskaya, and That's why I often walk along this street with a bottle of beer and a good mood. Nothing prevents me from enjoying the sun, the crowds and the civilized capital life. And once again a nice girl comes up to me. "Hello, can I speak to you?" she asks, forgetting that yesterday and the day before she came up to me and tried to find an approach to me. I then took her for a scammer-asker and brushed off communication that could turn out to be very unpleasant.
But now I stopped, languid from the sun and beer, noting in my drunken brain - and she's okay... And then she asks me one ticklish question: "What is your attitude to sex before marriage?" I smile and nod with all parts of my body: "Of course, positively, yes, yes." I become like that Georgian whose foot was stepped on by a Frenchwoman and he apologized: "Pardon," and he exclaimed: "Of course I want it!" But something unexpected happens - the girl says "sorry" (in Russian, of course) and goes into the crowd of people. There was some kind of mystery in all this.
"We can't leave things like this," I said and decided to act differently. On Saturday morning I drank some beer for courage, sat down in the underpass on Okhotny Ryad, and began to wait for my prey. I didn't have to wait long. A girl, not as pretty as yesterday, with lots of acne on her cheeks, jumped out of the crowd. But she acted the same way as everyone else. To the expected question, I immediately answered that I was categorically against sex before marriage. "Would you like to listen to a lecture on a healthy family?" I agreed, and she led me through the courtyards God knows where. The whole short way I was burdened with thoughts about maniac killers who choose people with special needs - well, someone just got the urge to catch virgins.
They brought me to an office, which turned out to be in the very center, where I finally calmed down in the good-natured atmosphere. The office was renovated in European style, with soft lighting and many small rooms. At first they showed me photographs from the life of some incomprehensible youth society, which looked like a wall newspaper for Timurovites - work in kindergartens, clean-up days in parks, etc. It didn't stop there, they started telling me about some Korean who is involved in charity work, opens international centers and wants to unite all religions, publishes training courses on natural science and other nonsense.
I listened attentively, but the beer was slowly starting to creep up on my cerebellum. I was called into the hall, where other poor guys like me were standing in a circle and singing some incomprehensible songs like "33 Cows" and "My Sunshine". They let me into the circle, gave me a songbook and unobtrusively suggested that I sing. I didn't want to sing - I was already starting to sway from side to side. After the song "Golden City" I suddenly publicly revealed my passion for the work of Boris Grebenshchikov. "Do you know "Old Man Kozlodoev"?" I loudly asked the guitarists. They didn't know... But I would have sung.
After the songs, the entire group of the chosen ones was led to the lecture hall, where a girl, by the look of it, very exemplary and terribly complexed, talked about the need to create a strong family, chastity and upbringing. After that, it was time to go to the second lecture. I barely restrained myself from falling asleep in a good and nice atmosphere. I tried so hard not to fall asleep that the lecturer kept looking at me, as if I was terribly interested. In my opinion, he was saying the same thing, but using technology - a light scope. The lecturer was about twenty-five years old, and he reminded me of a solid army ensign who was conducting educational work. True, this ensign turned out to be trained in the Western manner of Protestant pastors, who wave their arms, comically stretch their lips into a tube and smile happily when they read their sermons.
After the second lecture, the ensign suggested having some tea and discussing the problem of the immaculate family. There was no conversation - around me sat downtrodden guys and intimidated girls, who, apparently, quite sincerely answered the recruiters' question. Everything here was somehow unclean - I understood this even in a drunken state. Both the ensign and the lecturer were assertive, their eyes darted slyly from side to side. And then I remembered that someone had told me about the Moon sect and its incomprehensible activities. "And you belong to Moon, right?" I asked the ensign point-blank, admiring my memory even in a drunken state.
Prapor was wary, but quickly answered that their teacher was Reverend Moon. And then I got carried away - I asked why this Moon teaches chastity, but did not wean his son off drugs and alcohol, why create a new religion, why call his followers to work in Korean factories and plantations, why...Prapor narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, but cooled down quickly. He calmly began to make excuses and skillfully evade. How I got out of that office, I don't know, but it seems like no one kicked me out - not a single bruise in the morning...
Andrey KREKOV
It resembles a huge termite mound, where everyone is busy with their own business. Residents of Moscow are distinguished by their continuous activity. You walk the streets and feel like a grain of sand on the beach. The most interesting thing is to watch the youth. It is their representatives who are the bearers of progress in culture, sports, fashion. In order to be the most "advanced", they are ready to do a lot. And they do. Moscow parties are very colorful, their life is full of events, it is mobile and changeable as the wind. My best friend belongs to one of these communities. She told me so much about her "brothers" and "sisters" that I finally decided to try to join the youth movement.
Having asked a friend to take me to the next meeting, I received a hot response. It was a modern sect with a typical name like "Children of Christ". The "X" youth hung out there (together with God they preached art and sports). To be honest, it was a bit scary to go there, because sects are often spoken of badly. At the last moment I wanted to refuse, but looking at my friend's face, joyful in anticipation, I decided to go anyway. On the way I was warned: modesty and tact in everything, no matter what happens. To my question, what is it that waiting there, she said that the life of the "children" is built on the commandments of the Bible, and they themselves are trying to direct the lost to the true path, and to accustom the newcomers to a righteous life. Then followed a solemn tirade in honor of the smart and enlightened "like-minded".
At this point I started to laugh. Finally, we reached our destination and entered a small white building, next to which stood shiny expensive cars. Probably, modern preachers should be "dressed up" accordingly in order to better influence their followers. The surprises began with these cars.
As soon as we crossed the threshold of the hall, they pounced on us from all sides and in a few minutes I froze, literally licked from head to toe. About twenty people considered it their duty to kiss me at least once each. Then everything developed very dynamically. They approached me with meticulous questions of a very different nature: from interest in who my parents are, to how much I eat in the morning. I did not expect such attention to my person.
Stunned, at first I tried to answer conscientiously and modestly, but then I realized that it was useless, and I became silent, also modestly and conscientiously. My friend at this time kissed everyone, but obviously with much more pleasure (in general, the enthusiasm with which these people communicated and jumped on each other would have been more fruitful, probably, applicable to useful and meaningful activities). Gradually, everyone flowed into a huge hall without chairs, where they lit the candles they brought with them, and, as if on command, fell silent.
Christian Ray came out on stage... I was shocked. His face was spread with the half-surprised bliss of a child born a couple of hours ago. Dark gray eyes sparkled in a swarthy face framed by black hair. A handsome man, a lot can be forgiven for such a man, and I was ready to forgive him, remembering that he had a wonderful voice. But as soon as he began to read in his own slightly slang manner passages from the Old Testament, I felt uneasy.
The entire first part of the program consisted of Christianorean statements. In the second part, a young man and woman came out on stage and with tears in their eyes told how they used to quarrel and fight, led a dissolute life, and now they don’t even kiss, their feelings are as pure as the eyes of a child, they have completely forgotten about sex and instead began to read prayers every day, thanking the savior for giving them life. Let’s be honest, they didn’t look righteous. During these outpourings, I looked around: the faces of the listeners showed complete agreement with the speakers and gratitude for their words. It all resembled a medieval mass as described by Charles de Coster.
The most amazing thing was that everyone present took what was happening absolutely seriously - moreover, they were thirsty for more. And then, in the third part, the groups "Metro" and "X-mission" came out to perform. The guys, who are usually seen as energetic on the blue screen, here seemed like gray shadows who came from the other world to tell about the horrors of hell. Apparently, it was fashionable to believe in God and shout about it at every corner. Both groups were quite pessimistic and brought on terrible melancholy. Having watched enough celebrities, I ran away from there, not finding a friend. The impression from visiting the trendy youth hangout was negative. I won't go there again.
Yakhan Izyan