I thought for a long time what to do. Studying at the institute did not fully satisfy my creative ambitions, and there was so much energy that she urgently needed an exit. All my classmates did something. Someone worked in Papa's cellular company, and someone washed floors in the hostel for fifteen hundred a month. I wanted to make good money and "such work, so as not to work." She began to search: bought magazines, literally overlaid with newspapers and, confident as a result, lazily leafed through pages. After about two hours I realized that everything that was offered there requires good preparation, at least minimal experience, and in most cases - professionalism. I did not possess anything of this, because I lived all my life in parental care. I was disappointed, but I did not intend to surrender.
Search for the ad I tried again and again. The work had to be found sooner or later, but just so she was not. I already wanted to completely despair and stop looking, but there was an opportunity to earn a penny journalist. I was delighted, immediately with my friends "washed" a new post, but fleeing a couple of days on secular Moscow events, pobyivav heels in modern disco parties, interviewing all in a row, I realized that this work is not for me, because it really is a job that you get tired of and give away almost all your strength.
And then my close friend found out about my problems (and about them I screamed at every corner). She was not tormented by this, she lived as she wanted, and at the same time she always had money. How she earned them, for me, always remained a mystery. Yes, I was especially not interested, because she never took her and did not think about work at all. But now the way in which she extracted the bills, became for me vitally necessary. She volunteered to help me.
In my childhood I went to music school, where I learned how to play, like all clever and exemplary children, on the piano. I, like all normal children, hated the black hatred of the solfeggio and my teachers, then swelled with excitement in the exams and tried to get rid of this school as quickly as possible, but, as luck would have it, they considered me an able child and, instead of expelling, tormented more than all the rest taken together. Because of the music school, I was deprived of children's joys such as fuss with peers, walks in the yard and everything else. The music school was a hell, I did not see any perspective in this, but now, years later, I realized that it could come in handy. The girlfriend offered to work on Arbat.
"But I only play the piano, I do not think that it can be easily entered there," I really did not imagine how to use this skill in the business, playing on such a huge instrument, and even working on the street. But I was explained how useful this skill is. In short, a few days later I played in the newly created group of "hippies" on keyboards.
At first I was very afraid, then I began to worry, then I became interested, and then an extraordinary sense of satisfaction came. I earned money myself, in a rather pleasant way. Playing in the Arbat, I got used to the attention of people. Arbat parties are very diverse. Their color is explained by the merging of many different people into one big pile. Young people prefer to stay together, and it does not matter in the street who your father is and how much he earns. Just everyone hang out, trying not to interfere with each other, although this does not always work. Sometimes there are big fights, and even the police prefer not to interfere. But this happens very rarely.
So, I stood in the company of street musicians and played. Frankly speaking, our music was not particularly needed, because passing by were passing by, mostly talking, but we were not paying attention, especially since next to us there were still the same guys and just played and sang. To stand out on the Arbat, you need to try hard. But I was always amazed by youth solidarity: we were tossed coins regardless of whether they listened or not. Seeing that we, regardless of the seasons and weather conditions, still stand and play, the guys valued our zeal and paid us for the background, which we created with our music.
And we did our best. Rain and snow were not a problem for us. The problem was different: how to attract, really interest the listeners, do so that they pay not for the background, but for pleasure. It was almost impossible, because people are many and not at all please. But we did it. Once our soloist decided to radically change the program. Everyone used to hear from us tunes in the style of the seventies (this was our "hippy" status), and he crammed into our new songs the shades of different epochs and got the most unexpected result.
At first all the others, including me, who after a long service had received the right to vote, were categorically opposed, but when he took advantage of the uncontested right to insist on his own and try to do it his own way, they agreed, grumbling discontentedly. We rehearsed new songs and went to the usual evening work. In the first few minutes everything went disgustingly, people passing by wrinkled their nose and turned away, tried to pass faster, but then we got angry and played so furiously that the people liked it! In the end, we made a splash. We were forced to play again and again. Since then we have been in the spotlight.
I found a job of my own liking. Arbat is a whole world, and he accepted me. I do not earn a lot of money, but I have the most important thing - the joy of communication.Yakhan Izyan