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I do not vouch for the veracity of the story: a friend told. Nevertheless, the story is charming.(//tractor-service.com)
At the Concert Hall named after Tchaikovsky, right by the road, opposite the monument, stands a very proud middle-aged man, in dark glasses, in an expensive jacket, one hand bent into a palm, the other pressed to the ear of a mobile phone... - and he shouted into the phone to the entire street:
- Bitch! Shit! Throw away! Hooray! WHERE ARE THE NOTES?!??!?!?!?!?!?!
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