Аннотация: XX. Two pomegranates. From the diary by Lena Likeeva. - April 28, 2024.
Two pomegranates. From the diary by Lena Likeeva.
October 17, 2024, 16:10
A middle-aged woman came into my pharmacy this afternoon and asked for a "good sedative."
I offered her several options one by one, explaining the positive aspects of each.
While she was choosing what suited her, I took a closer look at her.
She was dressed neatly, in a summery way. Time and negative emotions have worked powerfully at her. She still has some signs of feminine attractiveness.
"I need a good remedy!" - she said, and praised me for my desire to find a good option for her.
I went beyond the responsibilities of a saleswoman and said that everything would be fine. I asked her: what happened?
It turned out that she was walking down the street today. Today was a day off. In front were a man (husband) - drunk, staggering, and talking loudly - in the style of well-drunk people, a woman (wife) and a little girl (daughter).
Next to my interlocutor (woman, visitor of my pharmacy) was a decently dressed man, who also saw these three persons ahead and who said with a condemning intonation, "Well, well ... Yes...".
My interlocutor (woman) said that the girl (daughter) was severely traumatized.
A conversation ensued.
My interlocutor, a pharmacy visitor, told the man that she was a psychologist, almost a professional one, and that she saw how much the girl (daughter) was psychologically traumatized.
The man was very interested in the fact that she was a psychologist, even if not a professional one. He said that it would be very interesting for him to get his psychological portrait from her: "So as to dig out all the insides," he said with a laugh.
Gradually, he turned the conversation to a joking wave and he smiled or laughed all the time. He said that he had always had great respect for psychologists.
At one point, he patted my interlocutor (woman) on the shoulder. She made a remark to him: he was violating the boundaries of her personal space.
He laughed again and said that these borders should be fenced with barbed wire.
My interlocutor (woman) began to speak out about his psychological portrait: he has working hands (fingers of a working man).
He laughed again, "I'm a proletarian! Of intellectual labor!" He stained his fingers with a spray of shoe paint. H packed his winter shoes in boxes.
My interlocutor (woman) said that he looked like some kind of working uncle Misha, who works in some kind of kiosk - like a watchmaker or a shoemaker, but in fact he is a criminal authority.
He burst out laughing.
It turned out that he wants to buy a couple of pomegranates, as he considers these fruits healthy.
My interlocutor (woman) became wary and began to ask questions: does he have a lack of iron (he does not know anything about this), does he measure his blood pressure (he does not measure his pressure).
The mention of pomegranates seemed implausible to her, and she said something about "maniacs". He laughed again: "That word has finally come out!" "That's it, they're all like that! They all are very scary!" He laughed at her, you might say.
My interlocutor said that she knows where pomegranates are sold. She was at a certain supermarket yesterday, and she saw them there.
He said that my interlocutor was a "useful person": she would lead him to a place where pomegranates were sold.
On the way, he took a ruble coin out of his pocket and handed it to a some woman.
My interlocutor said that "the hand of the giver will not be impoverished." He said that she turned out to be a useful person again: if it wasn't for her, he would have given once today, and thanks to her, he gave money twice.
My interlocutor (woman) said that it's necessary to give money (for poor) forty times a day. He didn't say anything to that, just smiled and laughed.
During the conversation, my interlocutor even once poked him with branches with wildflowers, which she held in one of her hands. He laughed and asked her to poke him with those branches again.
So, while they were talking, they reached the supermarket. He asked the supermarket employee where the pomegranates were located, and my interlocutor (woman) went to the wine department.
He selected two pomegranates, put them in a cellophane bag, weighed them, and approached her.
She assumed that since they had walked together and had a fun conversation together, it was quite possible that he would pay for the bottle of wine she had chosen.
However, it did not come to a joint approach to the cashier with a bottle of wine.
She told him that they were not very good, that they were bad pomegranates, that she had seen much better pomegranates yesterday.
He jokingly replied that when he ate these "bad" pomegranates, he would cry with regret, and that he would have tears dripping - because these pomegranates were not as good as the ones she had seen.
So they stood opposite each other: she with a bottle of wine in her hand, and he with the cellophane bag containing two pomegranates.
To his mocking words about the great sadness due to the "bad" pomegranates, she replied to him: there will be less fluid in his body, respectively, he will not have to rush to the toilet. She said this in more expressive, harsh, vernacular words.
He turned around a hundred and eighty degrees, returned to the place where the fruits and vegetables are located, put some plums in a bag, weighed them, and then headed to the cash register. He paid for the plums and pomegranates, and went out.
My interlocutor (woman) found it insulting that he left the store like that - without even saying a single word to her.
So she went to the pharmacy to get a sedative.
In the end, she chose valerian pills, and took two pills right at the pharmacy.
I told her not to worry.
She thanked me and left.
I have a possibility to get acquainted with a psychologist rarely. And I decided to record her story.
{ 20. Два граната. Из дневника Лены Ликеевой. - 28 апреля 2024 г.
XX. Two pomegranates. From the diary by Lena Likeeva. - April 28, 2024.