people started screaming. Fortunately, no one was knocked down or injured, but it was a real mess and panic. Fortunately again, the bikers disappeared in the smoke as quickly as they had appeared in the street earlier.
– Get the fuck out of here, bastard!
– What the fuck do you want here? Shut up your fucking mouth!
– I don’t give a fuck. Motherfucker!
The roar of the engines and extremely bad words of those so cool guys were hanging up in the smoky air for a while. It sounded horrible and much more than repulsive. It was like a little wedding collapse for us…
Oh, that wedding! My son Slava was the only guest, as well as the witness and the photographer, but it was Daniel’s decision. Due to some reasons he had no wish to invite anyone else to share that special day with us, but Slava had to share everything with me and my husband from the very beginning.
It’s not a secret that in the States you can’t legally drink, if you are not 21. Yet against the rules both of us suggested Slava to drink a little bit of champagne to us. My son was proud of me and felt happy – his mom was married! And of course Slava couldn’t refuse to raise a glass of delicious sparkling champagne to his just-married parents.
– To us Vika, for me and you! – Daniel, who has officially become my lawful husband just a couple of hours before, pronounced that very seriously and solemnly.
A few minutes later he couldn’t stop proposing toasts by toasts: “To my wonderful Russian wife!”, “To our happy Russian-American family! “To you, guys!”, “And of course to me dear, to your awful-lawful husband! Cheers!”
Dan proclaimed the last toast for himself, for the favorite one. He loudly laughed and drank another glass of champagne in one go. As soon as he did that, suddenly the long leg of the champagne glass fell down on the floor with big clinking, and it was broken to smithereens. Moreover, in a second the remainder of the empty champagne glass cracked into tiny pieces in Dan’s hands.
Dan looked perplexed. He was standing in front of me frozen, and his face was like a pale wax mask.
Fortunately, the waiter came up to us at once. He skilfully took the pieces of the glass away and quickly cleaned the table. He approached and left almost unnoticed.
– Are you OK, dear? Have you cut your hands? – At that moment I was definitely bewildered too, not less than my husband was.
– Everything is ok, I’m ok, my love, and no problem, – he answered and ordered another glass of champagne.
– There is a tradition in Russia, you know, dear? On the wedding day just-married after drinking the first glasses of champagne used to break them into the pieces. It is supposed to be done for future happiness and prosperity of their marriage. And your glass of champagne broke itself, Danny. For luck, – I tried to diffuse the situation.
The waiter appeared again and instead of the glass of champagne for Dan he brought a new bottle of the same first-rate French champagne.
– This is a surprise and present. It’s on the house. Relax and enjoy it, guys. Cheers! – The waiter was very polite to us.
We thanked him and with great pleasure tasted the excellent high-quality champagne. Slowly sipping it and in a very good mood we continued our conversation about this or that.
– Vika, look at the next table, please. – Dan whispered in a hurry. – Can you see three ladies there?
I turned my head right to see them.
– I’m sure all three of them are very wealthy. – Dan continued. – Look at their faked faces. They’ve definitely had a lot of face plastic surgeries, and not just one at a time. No doubts! Look at their lips, noses, cheeks and at their necks. Their faces are sickening, but the ladies consider themselves fine-looking and perfect.
– Why are you so sure, dear?
– Oh, Vika. I know American women, especially Californian. They all are the same. They all need but money and try to get it from their husbands, boyfriends or parents. They successfully inherit millions of dollars and then spend it with no trouble for clothing, new houses and cars and, of course, for re-making their faces, breasts and asses. There are so many such wealthy “beauties” here, in California, especially in Beverly Hills. They are all fake, inside and outside and you’ll never know their real age. I’m so happy to be married to you, my dear Russian girl!
– Thank you, Dan.
The ladies actually fascinated my husband. He couldn’t stop speaking about them with great inspiration.
I wondered why.
– It’s hard for them to chew because of the plastic surgery. You’ll see in a few minutes: they will run to the restroom to spit the food out of the mouth. I know this; I have been observing them since we came here. You’ll see, Vika.
– Hmm. You are saying it with the expertise, like a plastic surgeon, Dan. – I looked at the ladies once more and that time with feminine curiosity.
Three ladies of indefinite age, too good-looking and too much-taking-care-of-themselves, at least from the first sight; they enjoyed the delicious food, red wine and company of each other. Too much mascara, long faked nails, but good hairstyle. It is fake hair, isn’t? What can you say, the “professor of women studies?” – I joked.
– I love you! – Dan answered and kissed me
– Love you too, dear.
– The ladies look too bony and skinny to be healthy, – Dan supposed.
– But look, they are dressed very expensively, evidently comfortably, and fashionably; haute couture, – I whispered to my husband. – They remind me synthetic Christmas trees, well-decorated with hand-crafted gold and silver toys.
– You are funny, sweetie. – Dan laughed. – Look at the endless quantity of gold and platinum rings with huge shining diamonds on their fingers. Probably, they were married three or four times already, and now they are wearing all the rings from the ex-husbands. Ha-ha-ha.
– You never know, – I replied. – I like their stylish bracelets. Too heavy for their thin wrists, but gorgeous.
– Although they remind me of beautiful golden Christmas garlands, – I added.
One by one the ladies, like ghosts, stood up from the comfortable chairs and went to the restroom. Their faces were absolutely cold, and you could mistakenly think that it was their swelling up cheeks, but for the strict critics and observers, like my husband, it was obvious: the ladies’ cheeks were so big that moment because the food was kept in the mouths for a while, similar to hamsters, who do it naturally.
– Can you see? What did I tell you? – Dan was so proud of himself.
Pretty
