Corporate toilet

    Sergey ponuro walked through the corridors after the chief engineer. He told something, pointed his finger at one door, then at another, explained what wonderful people were working there, what masterpieces they were creating in different areas. At first, Sergei was interested, he walked alongside, listened politely, obediently turned his head after the pointing finger, but very quickly got tired.

    Strongly exhausting dissonance. Always, at all enterprises, at each site and interview, he heard the same thing. We are great, we have a team, we create masterpieces, our plans for the development of th-th, and nothing can stop us! And then, as you look closely, or work with them, it turns out ... What exactly there turns out to be, is not that important. But it turns out necessarily.

    Having decided that it is impossible to listen to this anymore, and urgently need a break, Sergey stopped abruptly.

    - Wait! He said loudly. - Where are you here ... Well, this is ... can you call the hedgehogs?

    The chief engineer stopped, turned around and looked at Sergei with a blank look.

    - I'm sorry, what?

    - Well call hedgehogs. Send the parcel. - Sergey continued with a dull smile, but, seeing that there was no understanding, he stopped using metaphors. - Toilet where you?

    “Ah ...” the chief engineer seemed relieved. - Come, I'll show you.

    When he reached the next turn, the chief engineer turned right - there was a short corridor, with two doors, left and right. Then Sergei guessed from the traditional patterns, denoting the difference between the sexes.

    - Dining down the hall. - showed the hand of the chief engineer. - Go straight, you can't go wrong. I'll wait for you at the entrance.

    - Good. - Sergey answered and resolutely moved to the toilet.

    The thinking room was great. Fifty meters square, six cubicles, the same number of sinks, four dryers, two dispensers with paper towels. On the floor - non-slip tile, or porcelain stoneware - Sergey did not understand well, but it was pleasant to walk on such a floor, and the builders obviously thought about safety after cleaning.

    All the booths were empty, the doors just ajar. Sergei first went to the sinks, looked in the mirror a little - it turned out to be perfectly clean, not a single speck was found. Finally, he was tired of building himself a revizorro, and he resolutely headed for the extreme booth located near the wall.
    Since Sergey had no plans for the direct appointment of the toilet, he simply lowered the toilet lid and sat down on top of it. Got a smartphone, and began to rummage aimlessly on the Internet. Checked the mail - nothing but advertising. In the messengers - also empty. Started reading news.

    Suddenly came the sound of the door opening - someone entered the toilet. Sergey was overwhelmed by a mixture of various feelings - from shame to irritation. For several years he had become accustomed to the toilet in Cuba, where the doors were solid, from floor to ceiling, and here - standard cabins, with a huge neckline at the bottom. Without knowing why, Sergey raised his legs so that they could not be seen. One put on the toilet roll holder, the other put on the door handle.

    - There is not anyone? - came the familiar voice.

    - Yes, like anyone. - the stranger answered.

    - Check. - Sergey has already understood who speaks - the recent commercial director. - Not enough for someone to overhear.

    Steps rang out. They stopped and resumed. Sergei understood - a man walked along a row of booths and each stayed. His booth was the last. Sergey held his breath and froze.

    The knob turned a millimeter, the door jerked, but held out. Below were two brightly polished shtiblet. There was a noisy breathing, a sigh, and the shadow under the door began to creep away. Sergei guessed that the man leaned very low and looked at the toilet - nothing else could have been seen.
    After a few seconds, the shadow returned to its original state, the door jerked once more and there were heard the retreating steps.

    - Like anybody. Said an unfamiliar voice. - Che happened there something?

    - Yes, I myself do not understand. - responded commercial. - In short. Some stump arrived, God knows where. He was interviewed as a CIO, but he refused.

    - In the sense of refused?

    - In direct. I went in and said that I had changed my mind and would not work with us. And then he bore some sort of nonsense that we have too many sales managers. Mentioned you.

    - me? - an unfamiliar voice was clearly surprised.

    - You. He said that he came to you, and you, like the spirit, you laid out all your work.

    - Yes, I ...

    - Wait, do not flicker. Did anyone stranger come to you today?

    - No ... Although, wait ... New programmer came.

    - Well, this is it. No he fucking is not a programmer. This is a stinky shit-eater from some village who decided that he could rise sharply here, lowering us. And I started with you.

    - Yes, why from me? - Sergey has already guessed what the last manager, Kolya, was saying.

    “Because you, half-monger, have rotten your rotten slurp with the wrong person.” - the voice of the commercial was very angry. - It was necessary to sit and be silent, think with your head, with whom and what are you talking about.

    - Yes, if I knew ...

    - "Yes, if I knew." - mimicked commercial. - You, Kohl, stupid-faced moron, and fly out of here, like a cork for the New Year.

    - Why cure something? - outraged Kohl. - Well, I talked to him that such and such? What did he tell you there?

    - The most rotten, Kohl, that he told the truth. About clients, about orders, about you and your Ksyusha, mare cute.

    “And how does he know about me and Ksyusha?”

    - In terms of? What about you and Ksyusha?

    - So, he does not know. - I heard a sigh of relief. - Nothing special.

    “Your mother ...” the commercial one cursed irritably. - What are you, the spiers-vili still made here, a mascara? Kolya, are you a moron? I have to tell your wife what?

    - Yes, I did not arrange anything! Just a couple of times went to a restaurant with her, for lunch, that's all!

    - Bitch, look at me! - Commercial clearly did not believe it. - Though my brother and shit piece, fucking drunk and dirty obmudok, but I promised my mother that I would help my niece, you idiot, I'll arrange a job. And this one, which is from Kurgan, was hooked on the general’s ear and hung up that you should be fired.

    - For what? - voice Koli trembled. - I work well, and my sales are among the best! I am a good manager!

    - Fuck, don't treat me. - replied maliciously commercial. - All your sales - crap on vegetable oil, and you sit here for just one reason.

    At this point, Sergei thought that such a chance should not be missed. There is still a smartphone in his hand, and, without a brief rummaging, Sergey turned on the recording on the recorder.

    - Well, what to do, eh? - Kohl pleaded. - Do you want me to leave you a whole percentage of sales? I still do not take anywhere else, so at least I will get a salary! Help, huh?

    - I will help. - dry answered commercial. “And not because you are my niece’s husband.” The amount is too large to be almond. So, well, what to do ...

    Behind the door it became so quiet that Sergey felt the beating of his heart. Only from time to time barely perceptible sounds were heard — someone shifted from foot to foot, clothes rustled, or there was a sigh.

    - We need to call Gena. - finally, uttered commercial. - Prepare the ground.

    Sergei listened intensely, but could not understand what was going on behind the stall door.

    - Gene, hello. - came the voice of a commercial. - You are alone? Can you go out somewhere? What? Oh, got it. What number? Yes, speak, write it down.

    Further commercially loudly dictated the digits of the number - apparently, Kolya wrote them down.

    - What is he there? - asked Kohl.

    - Scorched. Another number gave. Apparently, listening, or I do not know what. Damn them, these retailers.

    - Yes, finally, they are only catching up with fear, I have long been ...

    There was a savory sound on the back of the head.

    - Bitch, shut up better. Shouted the commercial in a whisper. - I have nothing more to do, just stand in the middle of the shit and shake after you.

    - So what do I have to do with it? - In the voice of Kolya I heard a call. - You are not behind me, but for a row. You care for your money, not mine.

    Again came the sound of the cuff.

    - Take your hands off, goat! - screamed Kohl. “I’m not some kind of syvka, but a normal kid!” Dick you beat me on the head?

    - If you were a kid, I would not have asked for a job, but I would have settled myself in life. - evil replied commercial. - And you, Kohl, just a small henchman, settled down, slap. You did not even sit on the topic - it would be worthy of respect. You put on the subject. Of course, not for your good. Fuck no one in this life needs your good. If you die, nobody will be upset. Even the niece will be glad that she got rid of you, your daily drinking and screaming scandals, what are you, bitch, family breadwinner. So shut up and do not bother. I will call Gena.

    - Yes, I ... - Kohl did not let up.

    - Another word, and I myself will drive you out, even with your maramoy I will not give you goodbye. - in the voice of a commercial steel notes sounded.

    The established silence prompted Sergey that Kolya had calmed down.

    - Gene, yes, hello. Listen, we got a problem here. Kohl want to dismiss ... Yes, it does not matter who it is ... Damn, Gena, listen and do not interrupt. If you want to save your share ... You will tell your director about your achievements, and I will tell him about your other successes ... Gena, you did not understand. I have all the conversations with you recorded. I made transfers from my card, and I can raise all transactions ... Well, well, now listen. You will probably be called. They will ask about Kohl. Do what you want, but we need to give our impression that you are ready to work only with him. You have a few hours, think of what Kohl is so good for, and why without him you will find another supplier ... No, I will not delete the records ... Hit yourself - you are mine. I know you, Gena, I know your work better than you. If I stop paying you, they'll kick you out because you don’t even imagine what kind of packages you buy, and why we have it ... Well, that's great. Glad you understood.

    A few seconds was quiet.

    - What is it? - finally asked Kohl.

    - Live for now. - dry answered commercial. - Gena is still an asshole, but a little livestock of you. Come up with something.

    - What should I do?

    - Go, search the computer, especially in the mail, look for any mention of me, Gene, and ... Well, you understand. To the mosquito nose is not undermined. Only, for God's sake, do not call the admins.

    - Whom?

    - Aytishnikov.

    - And how am I without them ...

    - What is it like? Mail can not open?

    - I'll find how.

    Here the commercial vilely cursed.

    - You're so stupid, Kolya, that I never cease to be amazed. How are you in your pants do not pile up when you have diarrhea? With pens, eyes, read each letter and delete it, if at least a bit it seems to you that it somehow compromises me or Gena. Got it?

    - Got it.

    - That's all gone.

    Here, according to all the laws of Murphy, Sergey's smartphone made an unpleasant and terribly loud squeak. Glancing at the screen, Sergei noticed that the voice recorder signaled the end of the recording due to the exhaustion of free space on the device.

    Little hope that no one heard the squeak lasted for several seconds, but it was destroyed by a sharp blow on the door, as if she had been kicked. Then another, and another.

    Sergei realized that the matter was bad, and put both feet on the door. The blows were getting stronger and more often - apparently, they began to break apart together. Finally, a flimsy lock designed for intelligent circulation broke down with a bang and the door opened.

    Sergey froze in a ridiculous pose, sitting on the lid of the toilet, with his legs hanging in the air, as if he was preparing to receive at the gynecologist. Angry, frenzied commercial faces and Kohli looked at him.

    - Well, shit?

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