Good advice

Good manners?

"Nothing lifts a woman's spirits like a good shopping spree at the supermarket," I thought

to myself, lugging five large shopping bags stuffed with "promotions" and

"total bargains" up the stairs. "But how am I supposed to open the stairwell door now?" My purse

slung across my back was hanging on the other side of my torso, and putting the bags down on

the ground was a near-miracle, threatening to break three precious bottles of vinegar marked

"2+1 free." "I have to manage somehow," I sighed, then "hooked

my elbow on the doorknob, opened the door slightly, and, blocking it with my foot, tried to squeeze my rather

"fluffy" frame into the resulting narrow gap. Because this required extraordinary

concentration and a combination of mental strength and muscle coordination, I momentarily forgot about

the world.

"You're walking, damn you!" – A pleasant and subtle voice, undoubtedly belonging to the leader of a

hard rock band, boomed like a Kalashnikov shot above my head. I instantly

regained my composure, and with a face of utter

astonishment, I stared at the black, polished fender of the motorcycle, like the family silverware, which

I had carelessly tapped when opening the door.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean to... it was because of all the shopping... nothing happened, right?” I stammered,

looking at this technological marvel with the expression of a special needs child. The long-haired owner of the machine,

almost my age (actually six years younger, but who would bet there),

examined the scene of the accident with rapt attention, keeping me in suspense for almost five

minutes. “Nothing,” he muttered, rubbing an invisible scratch, “that such duds are even walking around!”

He looked at me with disgust. Finally, he straightened up and added, "You're lucky, but in

the future, watch how you walk, a new car would cost half your

salary for that fender!"

A cold trickle of sweat ran down my spine at lightning speed.

I smiled foolishly and moved away to a safe distance so as

not to even breathe on the precious little treasure. The young man, with contempt written on his face, walked past,

driving with obvious reverence and muttering curses under his breath

at the clumsy women. "Phew," I sighed, lifting the already tattered

shopping bags, "we still have to carry this up to the third floor."

Panting and mentally cursing at the ill-mannered youth, I dragged myself painfully to the

apartment door. "Couldn't a brat like that, instead of dealing with this pile of scrap metal, have carried

these nets upstairs for me?" I thought as I opened the door. "What times! It's all because of the bad weather."

upbringing and a lack of empathy! Sigh... it would be completely different if

people were nice to each other, polite, friendly, forgiving of minor faults –

I daydreamed as I pulled out frozen fries, chicken, and a jar of salad. "

Microwave dinner again," I thought sadly. "But whatever, dinner can wait, first

I need a good cup of coffee!" I was pouring the freshly bought Nesca into a can

when a brilliant idea came to me! "Nothing will improve my damaged

mood like a visit to my friend from the first floor. I'll vent and complain about

my miserable fate, and then I'll take care of the rest." So I left the thawing purchases on

the kitchen counter and, in a great mood, with a can of coffee in my hand, I opened the door. "

Where are the keys?" I asked myself and immediately answered. "

Of course, they're stuck in the top lock. One day this absentmindedness will kill me, and my meager possessions

will enrich the account of some... aaaaah." I took a step forward and

immediately I was lying flat, the blissful aroma of spilled coffee wafting around me.

A moment passed before my ability to think returned and told me to check what had caused

my change to a horizontal position. "Wait a minute," I muttered, sniffing and rubbing

my aching elbow, "it seems the smell of coffee isn't the main factor here." I inhaled a few

times and, with considerable disgust, located the cause of my fall. On

the mat in front of my door was nothing more than cat poop, already slightly

deformed by my foot! This rather unexpected sight stunned me

and then unleashed my worst murderous instincts. My blood boiled, and

I'm sure smoke was coming out of my ears. "It's the work of that rat-catcher who lives on

the fourth floor." My eyes narrowed into tiny slits. "I'll show his

owner who he's messing with!" With great disgust, I picked up the doormat and headed towards

the culprit's door. I took a dozen steps and knocked, or rather, slammed

my fist on his door in a way that would have done the Gestapo no favors. A moment later,

the neighbor opened the door, smiling from ear to ear, with a kitten in his arms. He probably wanted to say

"good morning," but at the sight of my face, red with anger, all he could manage was a yelp. "Do you see what this is?" I hissed, shoving the doormat under his nose. If he didn't recognize it by its appearance, he certainly did by its smell. "It's your cat that left it on my

door."

"The doormat," I said, pointing at the black-and-white culprit. "If you want

to keep animals at home, you should also make sure they don't use other people's property to clean themselves!"

I yelled, driven to distraction.

"I'm so sorry, but he only went out for a moment..." the neighbor paled and his eyes

widened. "He just ran away from me," he stammered. "...you know, I never let him

out, but..." "I don't care about your explanations," I remained adamant. "

I advise you to be more careful in the future, because it could end in unpleasant

consequences for you!" Having uttered these lofty words, I proudly turned on my heel

and walked away, pretending I hadn't heard the apology. "What arrogance," I muttered under my breath

as I entered the apartment, "what a lack of culture and manners! What is he thinking?! And if

he were raising a cow, what could she be doing with impunity right outside my door?

" I thought, ignoring the architectural difficulties that precluded such a thing.

I sat down in the armchair, furious as a wasp. "I could have told him off to teach him a lesson," I added,

feeling dissatisfied. I would have happily relished the prospect of verbally trampling

my neighbor into the parquet floor for even longer, but a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. "Who's he carrying here again?"

I rose from the armchair and headed for the door. When I opened it, I was speechless. Standing in

the doorway was the hated neighbor, or rather, a huge bouquet of flowers that completely

covered him. "I wanted to apologize to you again for the cat. Here, these are for you,"

he said, handing me an armful of flowers.

"I've only had him for a week," he began uncertainly, "and you know, he hasn't quite

mastered the art of using the litter box yet. It's a find... well, it doesn't matter, I just wanted

to add that I'll buy the doormat and apologize again.

I thought the phrase 'stopped dead in his tracks' fit me perfectly at that moment. "

I'm sorry," he added uncertainly, "but you left your keys in the door and maybe... someone...

well, please hide them." "Goodbye," he added, still confused by my silence, and he was gone

. I took the keys out of the upper lock and slowly closed the door. I sat on a stool,

holding the flowers in one hand and the unfortunate door locking device in the other.

"Idiot, idiot, and simpleton" were the mildest descriptions that came to mind for

myself. "Nice, sure, I showed off!" I summed up my achievement. "

And who was talking about good manners here not long ago??? Who claimed it would be nice,

If only everyone were polite... haha! The cat's out of the bag!" – my inner self

was laughing at me straight in the face! – "You're quite right!" – I admitted with shame – "

I'm a hopeless hypocrite." I looked at the beautiful bouquet and thought how easy it is

to set rules of conduct for other people and how difficult it is to follow them in

life myself. – Well, there's no point in sitting around like that, because the flowers will wilt. – I sighed and looked around

the kitchen for a vase. – Besides, I still have to run to the store for some

delicious cookies and invite a neighbor for coffee, because there's nothing like good manners, right

?