From: the.wise.one@abel.co.uk   
      
   Water Sports   
      
   by Mikhail Zoshchenko   
   1935   
      
      
   A cinema worker from Moscow visited Leningrad on business.   
      
        He stayed at the Europa Hotel.   
      
        Had a wonderfully comfortable room.  Two beds.  A bath.  Carpets.   
   Paintings.  All this sort of put our new arrival in the mood for meeting   
   people and passing time pleasantly.   
      
        So friends and acquaintances started coming round to see him.   
      
        And as always, some of his friends came by and took a bath.  You   
   see, many of them lived in apartments where there was no bath.  And many   
   people don't really like going to the steam baths, and in fact people   
   are tending to forget about this everyday procedure.  And so here was a   
   perfect opportunity: you go round to see a friend, chat, philosophize   
   and take a bath at the same time.  Especially since there's hot water.   
   And free government-supplied towels and so on.   
      
        This is why many people like it when a friend visits from out of town.   
      
        To cut a long story short, in five days our visiting Muscovite had   
   even become a bit exhausted with this undeviating line of friends.   
      
        But of course he held out until the very last moment, when finally   
   a catastrophe unfolded.   
      
        One way or another, that evening six friends had come round more or   
   less all at once.   
      
        After a brief chat, the guests immediately formed a small queue for   
   the bathroom.  Three washed quickly and, once they'd had a cup of tea, left.   
      
        But the fourth was an old lady.  A relative of our visitor.  She   
   was an exceptionally long time taking a bath.  It seems she was even   
   washing something from her wardrobe.   
      
        She was fussing about in there for so long that the Muscovite and   
   his waiting friends got pretty depressed.  She was in the bathroom for   
   an hour and a quarter.   
      
        But seeing as she was our Muscovite's dear old aunt, he wouldn't   
   allow his friends any excesses towards her.   
      
        In short, by the time she came out it was well past midnight.   
      
        One of the friends couldn't wait any longer, and left.  But the   
   other was completely shameless, and just wouldn't give up.  Come what   
   may, he wanted a bath that very day, so that he would be clean for   
   something or other in the morning.   
      
        And so he waited for the aunt to leave.  Cleaned the bath.  And   
   turned on the hot water tap.  Then he lay down on the couch and began to   
   wait for the bath to fill up.   
      
        But somehow or other he must have fallen asleep because he was so   
   tired.  And what's more, the Muscovite himself was dozing on the sofa.   
      
        So the water filled the bath and then overflowed, and in a short   
   while flooded the hotel room and even seeped through to the next floor.   
     But since the floor below was the lounge, which was empty, at first no   
   one noticed the catastrophe.   
      
        In short, the intense heat and steam woke our two friends up.  The   
   visiting Muscovite, as he told people afterwards, even dreamed he was in   
   Gagry.   
      
        But when he woke up, he saw that the whole room was filled with   
   water and there were slippers, newspapers and all sorts of wooden items   
   floating around.   
      
        The hot water, of course, made it impossible for them to stop the   
   flood immediately because they couldn't reach the bath to turn the tap   
   off.  They sat on the sofas, not daring to put their feet into the   
   steaming water.   
      
        But then, by managing to move chairs and hopping from one chair to   
   another, the Muscovite's frightened friend made it to the bath and   
   turned the tap off.   
      
        They'd only just turned the tap off, and water had just started to   
   flow away, when the management ran in with pale faces.   
      
        When they'd inspected the bathroom and the floor below, the   
   management began to debate something with an engineer who'd just appeared.   
      
        Our friends got into a bitter argument: who was guilty and who   
   should pay for the damage.   
      
        The visiting Muscovite's friend, breathless with fear, said that   
   he'd pay off the first 40 roubles, but that anything above that should   
   be paid by the guest himself, who had been so thoughtless as to let his   
   bath be used by people from outside the hotel.   
      
        Then they got into an argument that could have ended unfortunately   
   if the management had not been there.   
      
        The Muscovite, in a shaky voice, said to the management:   
      
        'What do you think the cost of the damage will be?'   
      
        The management said:   
      
        'Well, you see, downstairs, in the lounge, the stucco's been washed   
   away: one large classical figure and three cherubs.  So that raises the   
   cost quite a bit.'   
      
        When he heard about the classical figure and the cherubs, the   
   Muscovite's friend started literally shaking.   
      
        The Muscovite, giving the management a look full of anguish, whispered:   
      
        'And what will this washing away of cherubs cost?'   
      
        The engineer said:   
      
        'We reckon the operation's going to cost about seven or eight   
   thousand...'   
      
        This sum completely knocked the Muscovite's last bit of strength   
   out of him, and he lay down on the sofa, not understanding what was   
   going on.   
      
        Meanwhile his friend displayed an unpleasant side to his character.   
     Like a complete bastard, he tried, as they say, to suffer an eclipse.   
     But was caught by the weak but honest hand of the visitor.   
      
        The Muscovite, only just managing to move his tongue, said to the   
   management:   
      
        'Couldn't you make it two thousand?  If it comes to it, don't   
   bother with the cherubs.  We're in the Second Five-year Plan, this is no   
   time to be paying for cherubs...'   
      
        The management said:   
      
        'There's no need to get worked up and start to haggle.  It's not as   
   if we're asking you to pay for the damage.'   
      
        When he heard these words, the Muscovite's friend closed his eyes,   
   thinking it was a dream.   
      
        But the management said:   
      
        'We don't blame you at all.  It was our technical deficiency.  We'd   
   not calculated water drainage properly and that's our technical fault.'   
      
        The engineer then gave a scientific explanation.  He said, pointing   
   to the bath:   
      
        'See there inside the bath, near the top, there's a small hole,   
   water has to flow into it depending on how full the bath is.  Where the   
   calculation is scientifically correct, the water cannot flow over the   
   sides.  But here we were to some extent at fault, and the hole, as you   
   yourselves saw, couldn't absorb the flow of liquid.  We're very sorry   
   for the disturbance this has caused.  This will not happen again.  We'll   
   put it right.  These are the sort of technical shortcomings that have no   
   place in this glorious society of ours.'   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)