Venichka Erofeev travels from Moscow to the Moscow region regional center called Petushki. There lives the hero’s chilliness, delightful and unique, to which he travels on Fridays, having bought a bag of “Cornflower” chocolates as a hotel.
Venichka Erofeev has already begun his journey. On the eve, he took a glass of zubrovka, and then - on Kalyaevskaya - another glass, but no longer zubrovki, but coriander, followed by two more glasses of Zhiguli beer and from the neck an alb de dessert. “Of course, you ask: and then, Venichka, and then, what did you drink?” The hero will not slow down with an answer, however, with some difficulty restoring the sequence of his actions: on Chekhov Street two glasses of hunting. And then he went to the Center to at least once look at the Kremlin, although he knew that he would still get to the Kursk station. But he didn’t even get to Kursky, but ended up in a certain unknown staircase from which he left — with a dull weight in his heart — when it dawned. With a pathetic anguish, he asks: what is more in this burden - paralysis or nausea? “Oh, ephemerality! Oh, the most powerless and shameful time in the life of my people is the time from dawn to the opening of stores! ” Venichka, as he himself says, does not go, but is attracted, overcoming hangover nausea, to Kursky Station, from where the train departs to the coveted Petushki.At the station, he enters a restaurant, and his soul shudders in despair when the bouncer reports that there is no alcohol. His soul longs for just a little - only eight hundred grams of sherry. And for this very thirst - with all his hungover cowardice and meekness - under white hands they grab him and push him into the air, and then a little suitcase with gifts (“O bestial grin of being!”). Two more “mortal” hours will pass before departure, which Venichka prefers to pass over in silence, and now he is already on some rise: his suitcase has gained some weight. It contains two bottles of Kuban, two quarters of Russian and pink strong. And two more sandwiches, because the first dose of Venichka can’t be without a snack. Then later, until the ninth, he calmly dispenses with it, but after the ninth, a sandwich is again needed. Venichka openly shares with the reader the subtle nuances of his way of life, that is, drinking, he spat on the irony of imaginary interlocutors, which include either God, then angels, or people. Most of all in his soul, according to his confession, “grief” and “fear” and even dumbness, every day in the morning his heart exudes this infusion and bathes in it until the evening. And how, knowing that the "world sorrow" is not a fiction at all, do not drink the Kuban?
So, having examined his treasures, Venichka was quiet. Does he really need this? Is this what his soul yearns for? No, he doesn’t need this, but - is welcome. He takes a quarter and a sandwich, goes out into the vestibule and finally lets out his spirit, which has languished in imprisonment. He drinks while the train passes sections of the path between the stations Sickle and Molot - Karacharovo, then Karacharovo - Chukhlinka
One of these stories full of black humor is how they threw Venichka from the team. The production process of hard workers consisted of playing shikah, drinking vermouth and unwinding the cable. The broom simplified the process: they stopped touching the cable altogether, played sika for a day, drank vermouth or the Freshness cologne for a day. But another ruined him. A romantic at heart, Venichka, taking care of his subordinates, introduced individual schedules and monthly reports: who drank how much, which was reflected in the diagrams. It was they who accidentally fell into control with the next social obligations of the brigade.
Since then, Venichka, having rolled down the public staircase, onto which he spits now, has been taking a walk. He waits for Petushkov to wait, where on the platform there are red eyelashes, prostrated faces, and wavering of forms, and a braid from the back of the head to the priest, and behind the Cockerels there is a baby, the most plump and most meek of all babies, knowing the letter "u" and waiting for it from the broom nuts. Queen of heaven, how far is it even to the Cockerels! Is it really so easy to endure? Broom goes into the vestibule and drinks the Kuban directly from the neck, without a sandwich, throwing his head back like a pianist. Having drunk, he continues a mental conversation, either with heaven, which worries that he will not reach again, or with a baby, without whom he feels lonely.
No, Venichka is not complaining. Having lived in the world for thirty years, he believes that life is beautiful, and, passing various stations,he shares his wisdom acquired over a not-so-long period: either he studies drunk hiccups in its mathematical aspect, or he unfolds before the reader recipes for delicious cocktails consisting of alcohol, various types of perfumes and varnishes. Gradually, more and more typing, he talks with fellow travelers, shines with a philosophical turn of mind and erudition. Then Venichka tells the next bike to the controller Semenych, who takes fines for stowaways with grams of alcohol and the big hunter for various kinds of alcove stories, “Shahrazad” Venichka is the only stowaway who has never managed to bring Semenych who is listening to his stories every time.
This continues until Venichka suddenly begins to dream of a revolution in a particular "Petushinsky" district, plenums, his election, Venichki, as president, then renunciation of power and resentful return to Petushki, which he cannot find. The broom seems to be recovering, but the passengers are grinning something dirty, looking at him, they turn to him: "Comrade Lieutenant", then generally indecent: "Sister." And outside the window is darkness, although it seems to be morning and light. And the train is most likely not going to Petushki, but for some reason to Moscow.
It turns out Venichka, to his sincere amazement, indeed in Moscow, where four fellows are immediately attacked on the platform. They beat him, he tries to run away. The pursuit begins. And here it is - the Kremlin, which he so dreamed of seeing, here it is - paving stones of Red Square, here is a monument to Minin and Pozharsky, past which a hero escapes from his pursuers runs.And everything tragically ends in an unknown entrance, where those four are overtaking poor Venichka and sticking an awl into his throat ...
