22
Max returned in roughly ten minutes. Good thing he was back, because I couldn’t take any more of these Krasnodarovites with their southern accent and nonstop discussion of every woman that either appeared on television or happened to be around the club, including waitresses and managers. The discussion focused on their endowments, along with bold suppositions about how this one or that one might prefer it… and what’s the best thing to do with one versus another…
Max came back frowning and with a droopy look. He was terribly changed. Turns out he had gotten used to his beard. He cut himself in several places, to which he applied little pieces of toilet paper. Max’s face turned red and conveyed intense sorrow. Except I could tell that he was red from fighting back an irrepressible urge
