The Bitcoin Baby

2

Let me tell you about my acquaintance with Tonya. That evening we met up with an old friend of mine to sit in a bar, drink a couple of shots of cognac and chat about everything in the world. We've known each other since high school and always find a lot of common topics. All these conversations often take us far into the maze of memories, and to get out of them sometimes requires more alcohol. We've known this for a long time, so we're always internally ready for the evening to continue. This time, two shots were just a prelude, and in an hour we ran out of a whole bottle of cognac.

Now it was necessary to get some air before the next turn, and we decided to change the location. The evening was cool, we walked and gradually sobered up. The old town is always beautiful to walk around in this state. From the courtyards and parallel streets and even from under the curbs and cracked asphalt crawl out the shadows of the glorious past. We passed Yaroslavov Val, Golden Gate, went along Prorezna to Khreshchatyk, where we took a coffee. A sip of coffee made me want to smoke. Cognac and coffee is such a bundle that gently inclines you to a cigar, even if you don't smoke. Maybe it's the fruit of literary and movie images? But if you want to, why not, - we decided and went to the tobacco kiosk.

That's where we met them. The two friends were laughing and were clearly drunk, even more than we were. It's hard to remember who met who, but it was pretty fun and spontaneous. "Girls, why don't we advise you on what to buy?" "What do you like - big and thick or thin and flavorful?" All those playful phrases..... A few minutes later we were walking in search of a new bar, inhaling the aroma of vanilla cigarettes. Cars were rushing along the evening Khreschatyk, the light of street lamps reflected from the wet asphalt, and near the pubs, over the flocks of young people, vapors from vapes were blowing, dissolving laughter and loud phrases. For some reason I felt like a high school student, who was called by his friends for the first time to hang out "grown up", with alcohol and girls. And even if the girls were your classmates from parallel classes, the alcohol was cheap port, but the feeling was akin to waiting for the New Year. The unknown, which can determine not just a series of events, but you yourself, your character and, perhaps, fate. High stakes in an invigorating holiday atmosphere. When anything can happen, when a lot can happen, when you can at least stay up all night.

We went into pubs, but it was Friday, they were all packed with people. Basements, staircases, tired, polite faces of admin girls "Sorry, all booked tonight", the smell of cigarettes, the taste of vanilla on our lips and the freshness of the cool air. We walked and joked that maybe we shouldn't go to the pub, but straight home, they laughed back and looked at us slyly.

Finally we found a place in one quite popular place. The only free table and it was ours.

- A bottle of cognac, a two-liter Coke and a sausage cut.

- I gave the order in a businesslike manner.

- Maybe a salad?

- The waiter, all tattooed with some Scythian animals, asked.

- Maybe a salad?

- I asked the ladies.They shook their heads negatively. The music was playing loudly and nothing could be heard.

- No need.The waiter nodded, took the menu with his long fingers and sped away, maneuvering between the tables like a fast and thin yacht.

The noise and music made it impossible to talk, so we sat and winked at each other. The order came quickly, my friend diluted the cognac with cola, we clinked glasses and drank.

My friend leaned to my ear and quickly said:

- You the skinny one, and me the bigger one. I love them!

I nodded gratefully. I definitely liked the skinny one better.

I leaned across the table to them.

- Shall we go dancing?

They nodded happily, and we walked to the stage in front of the musicians. We danced many times afterwards, returned to the table, drank cognac, snacked on sausages, and went back to dancing. I confess that the most pleasant sensation that night was her waist. I felt her firm and warm body with the palm of my hand and unobtrusively slid my hand further to her back. She's small, her head barely reaches my shoulder, so I must seem like an awkward big guy to her," I thought.

Here she climbs up on a chair, right in front of the musicians, and jumps on me. I catch her easily, a little intoxicated and twist her dashingly in my arms, everyone laughs, but at the same second they forget about us, and I gently draw her to me and kiss her. She doesn't resist and drags me to our table, where she feeds me sausage from her fork.

- Tonya, I can't eat anymore!

- Eat, it's the right thing to do! - She says sternly and stares at me with her big green eyes.

I choke on the sausage and I am happy. Something inside me, some ancient voice, says that a woman feeding you means she wants you, wants strength, health, offspring from you. It's ridiculous, but it gives me more confidence that she likes me than that kiss among the dancing people. And I'm getting a little cocky and drunkenly bold:

- Shall we go to my place?

She laughs. My friend laughs. Her friend laughs. I laugh too. The cognac is drunk, the music is even louder, we drink a cocktail, then another. Cab. Call me, okay? Sure! Night street, house, apartment, bed, sleep.