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At the request of the working class, I'm posting a brief little report about our little get-together.
First, the text part.
The meeting was scheduled for 18:30 at the "Drova" restaurant on Pokrovka. As befits a leader (a charismatic one!), Qwerty arrived first; with commendable courtesy, he took a table in the non-smoking area (thanks!
), ordered himself plenty of tasty things (before the other hungry phoenixes descended) and prepared for a long wait. I believe not even 15 minutes had passed when I docked at the restaurant (catching a waterfall of water from a ledge straight onto my head right before the entrance 
). By the way, this sad incident didn't stop Qwerty from bravely lying that I looked wonderful (though perhaps without the wet head, something really would have been off
).
But let's go in order. My arrival at the restaurant was marked by a delightful dialogue with the gentleman at the entrance:
- A table for you?
- No, I'm being expected.
- Girls?
- Nnno, rather boys...
- Ah, there's one boy sitting in that hall... come along, let's see.
Strongly doubting that Qwerty could be mistaken for a minor, I followed the kind gentleman. However, strangely enough, he led me to a table where Qwerty was indeed sitting - completely alone, if you don't count the mulled wine and a teapot of tea. While I was looking for a coat rack, our leader meaningfully offered to "V.I.P. undress" me.
Trembling inside, I obediently gave him my coat, hiding my scarf just in case (it's very dear to me
) and soon received a token in return.
It was time to worry about choosing dishes. I opened the menu and prepared to study it thoroughly from all sides. For clarity, I'll note that at "Drova" there is an offer called "55 dishes for 490 rubles" - in simpler terms, a buffet with unlimited visits. I, however, aimed for a pork steak, which was not part of this offer, but Qwerty intervened.
- Don't even think about it – take the 55 dishes, - he said, looking at me friendly over his glasses.
- Well, I don't know... there's such pork here... and sushi... - I mumbled.
- Sushi is evil. – our leader cut off sternly. - I ate a couple or three kilograms of them recently, and I felt sick, - he added mournfully.
- But... but I won't eat 55 dishes... I'm not that capacious... - I tried to defend myself.
- 55 dishes. – Qwerty repeated softly but insistently, and his eyes flashed icily behind the glasses, subtly reminding me of Lavrentiy Pavlovich. I trembled.
- Fine, - I obediently squeezed out, - I will make every effort.
Qwerty beamed. He was clearly pleased with my perceptiveness.
Soon we were given a modest stack of plates and a full quiver of knives and forks, so the path to the coveted 55 dishes was open. While we were gathering food, I learned many new things about Qwerty: that he doesn't eat animals because he feels sorry for them, but he eats fish because fish are devoid of firm moral foundations anyway, and he eats people rarely and without pleasure, as they lead an unhealthy lifestyle, which poorly affects the taste of the meat.
Filled with admiration for a man with such strictly grounded principles, I timidly crowned the bonsai that had grown on my plate with a cabbage pie and headed back to our table.
Are you still with me, my dear forum members? Amazing! I will try to be briefer (but I promise nothing
). Having reached our table, we carried out a monstrous massacre on our plates, while continuing, however, to discuss Heroes, resolve the clan's personnel issues and plot schemes
(we are a Clan after all, which means, in a way, we're the mafia 
).
But we didn't brainstorm as a duo for long. Soon, a Seasoned Human-Giant, the Paragon of Off- and On-line Heroes 3 and simply a wonderful person (though an unbearable one
) – vitalic, sailed majestically to our table.
Of course, he also quickly understood the party line and, accordingly, what needed to be ordered.
Qwerty: "I SAID – 55 DISHES!" Vitalic: "I get it, boss, I get it, stop shouting."
ъ
Qwerty: "I see... I see the great future of our clan! I see the arrival of the most powerful players into the top 5!" Vitalic: "I see, I see my death by starvation... I'm going for cake."
When it came to cakes, VitaliC turned out to be an excellent specialist indeed: he helped me choose as many as three different cakes, though he then spent half the evening making sure I didn't eat them (he was caring for my figure, the kind man
).
Here, my dear ones, I will pause for technical reasons. The main part of the photos will be later, plus I will tell you about Vigo's arrival, about how we drank to the dendroids, and whose monument we couldn't guess on the way home.
First, the text part.
The meeting was scheduled for 18:30 at the "Drova" restaurant on Pokrovka. As befits a leader (a charismatic one!), Qwerty arrived first; with commendable courtesy, he took a table in the non-smoking area (thanks!
), ordered himself plenty of tasty things (before the other hungry phoenixes descended) and prepared for a long wait. I believe not even 15 minutes had passed when I docked at the restaurant (catching a waterfall of water from a ledge straight onto my head right before the entrance ). By the way, this sad incident didn't stop Qwerty from bravely lying that I looked wonderful (though perhaps without the wet head, something really would have been off).But let's go in order. My arrival at the restaurant was marked by a delightful dialogue with the gentleman at the entrance:
- A table for you?
- No, I'm being expected.
- Girls?
- Nnno, rather boys...
- Ah, there's one boy sitting in that hall... come along, let's see.
Strongly doubting that Qwerty could be mistaken for a minor, I followed the kind gentleman. However, strangely enough, he led me to a table where Qwerty was indeed sitting - completely alone, if you don't count the mulled wine and a teapot of tea. While I was looking for a coat rack, our leader meaningfully offered to "V.I.P. undress" me.
Trembling inside, I obediently gave him my coat, hiding my scarf just in case (it's very dear to me) and soon received a token in return. It was time to worry about choosing dishes. I opened the menu and prepared to study it thoroughly from all sides. For clarity, I'll note that at "Drova" there is an offer called "55 dishes for 490 rubles" - in simpler terms, a buffet with unlimited visits. I, however, aimed for a pork steak, which was not part of this offer, but Qwerty intervened.
- Don't even think about it – take the 55 dishes, - he said, looking at me friendly over his glasses.
- Well, I don't know... there's such pork here... and sushi... - I mumbled.
- Sushi is evil. – our leader cut off sternly. - I ate a couple or three kilograms of them recently, and I felt sick, - he added mournfully.
- But... but I won't eat 55 dishes... I'm not that capacious... - I tried to defend myself.
- 55 dishes. – Qwerty repeated softly but insistently, and his eyes flashed icily behind the glasses, subtly reminding me of Lavrentiy Pavlovich. I trembled.
- Fine, - I obediently squeezed out, - I will make every effort.
Qwerty beamed. He was clearly pleased with my perceptiveness.
Soon we were given a modest stack of plates and a full quiver of knives and forks, so the path to the coveted 55 dishes was open. While we were gathering food, I learned many new things about Qwerty: that he doesn't eat animals because he feels sorry for them, but he eats fish because fish are devoid of firm moral foundations anyway, and he eats people rarely and without pleasure, as they lead an unhealthy lifestyle, which poorly affects the taste of the meat.
Filled with admiration for a man with such strictly grounded principles, I timidly crowned the bonsai that had grown on my plate with a cabbage pie and headed back to our table.
Are you still with me, my dear forum members? Amazing! I will try to be briefer (but I promise nothing
). Having reached our table, we carried out a monstrous massacre on our plates, while continuing, however, to discuss Heroes, resolve the clan's personnel issues and plot schemes (we are a Clan after all, which means, in a way, we're the mafia ).But we didn't brainstorm as a duo for long. Soon, a Seasoned Human-Giant, the Paragon of Off- and On-line Heroes 3 and simply a wonderful person (though an unbearable one
) – vitalic, sailed majestically to our table. Of course, he also quickly understood the party line and, accordingly, what needed to be ordered.
Qwerty: "I SAID – 55 DISHES!" Vitalic: "I get it, boss, I get it, stop shouting."
ъQwerty: "I see... I see the great future of our clan! I see the arrival of the most powerful players into the top 5!" Vitalic: "I see, I see my death by starvation... I'm going for cake."
When it came to cakes, VitaliC turned out to be an excellent specialist indeed: he helped me choose as many as three different cakes, though he then spent half the evening making sure I didn't eat them (he was caring for my figure, the kind man
).Here, my dear ones, I will pause for technical reasons. The main part of the photos will be later, plus I will tell you about Vigo's arrival, about how we drank to the dendroids, and whose monument we couldn't guess on the way home.
Glancing menacingly around, clearing a flock of my handbags and packets off the last free chair, and greeting us with a spirited whistle (or was it a barbarian's battle cry?..), he rushed off in two leaps to plunder the buffet. This, of course, was Vigo. After consuming three or four kilograms of meat, he softened and even began to speak humanly. 
True, at first he could only manage two phrases: "What is your name?" and "How old are you?", and due to some sad misunderstanding, he kept addressing these questions specifically to me. 
But then a waiter brought him some mysterious transparent potion on ice, after a sip of which our barbarian began to change right before our eyes – he cheered up, grew kinder, and became surprisingly sweet and talkative. 
Alas, it turned out to be Griboyedov. After examining the monument with judgment, we finally dove into the metro.
