“While we’re relaxing at your dacha, you should send your wife with the kids to her mother’s so she doesn’t bother us!” — the friends told the owner of the plot.
Friday evening had come. The roof of Ivan’s country house shimmered with the sunset’s reflections, creating a cozy atmosphere on the young homeowner’s countryside property.
The house was surrounded by a large beautiful lot, lush with green lawns and trees. In the backyard, the grill was already smoking, and nearby under the veranda stood a table set for guests.
On the table were fresh vegetables, salads, fruits, and bottles of drinks ready for the celebration. Ivan had already taken out the pre-marinated meat from the fridge and was grilling the first batch of shashlik so that the guests wouldn’t arrive hungry.
Ivan, glowing with anticipation for the upcoming buffet and tasty, juicy shashlik, dressed in a comfortable T-shirt and shorts, eagerly awaited the arrival of his friends.
He had promised his wife Svetlana that this would be a picnic with friends accompanied by their wives and children, not a bachelor party in Vegas as had happened before.
Besides, during a recent phone call with Vovchik, they had agreed that Ivan’s housewarming at the new country home would reasonably be celebrated with families, not just a men’s gathering.
Svetlana, Ivan’s wife, helped set the table with a smile, and both looked forward to a pleasant evening among mutual acquaintances.
Svetlana hadn’t seen her girlfriends — Katerina, Vovchik’s wife, and Marina, Igor’s girlfriend, who for years hadn’t dared (or wanted) to make an official proposal — in a long time.
However, it should be noted that Ivan’s friends — Igor and Vovchik — really disliked gathering with families. They preferred a strictly male atmosphere where they could fully enjoy their freedom and “guy talk.”
Just then, a taxi pulled up to the entrance gate, and Ivan’s friends were already whistling to be let in through the hated gate.
“Well? Vanek? Why are you barricaded in? Aren’t you expecting us? You could have at least bothered to open the gate beforehand!” Vovchik started complaining, holding a bag with glass bottles from “Krasnoe & Beloe” (a liquor store).
“I can’t keep it open — my gate has a magnetic lock, and if I open the gate, all the cats and dogs from the neighborhood will rush over at the smell of grilled meat, and the neighbors might peek in too!” Ivan explained defensively to Vovchik and Igor.
“And where are your wives? We agreed to celebrate with families. Sveta hasn’t seen Katerina and Marina for a long time, she wanted to chat with them!” Ivan was surprised by his friends’ breach of the agreement.
“Sveta, Sveta…” Igor mocked, “We don’t care about your Sveta. You should have sent her to her mother for a week with the boy and the girl, and we would have had a good time here!”
“So, did you sabotage on purpose?” Ivan wondered.
“You just wait and see, tell Sveta our better halves went south. That’s how it is!” Vovchik instructed Ivan while placing bottles of alcohol on the table.
“Well, Ivan, you’ve set this up nicely, like a white gentleman. You even paved the yard, built awnings, and your roof is interesting — is that a soft roof?” Vovchik was already inspecting Ivan’s property, walking around and checking the features.
“Well, what else? Vova, it’s a new modern house — what, should I have thatched the roof? Sveta and I dreamed about this, so we made it real,” Ivan replied to his friends.
“Since you’re curious, I’ll show you everything, though I’ve lived here on the construction site for three years already, you could have visited at least once during that time.”
The friends seemed not to hear Ivan’s reproach and attentively examined the surroundings, touching and feeling everything with their hands.
“Well, you’ve seen the entrance area, with sliding gates and a canopy with parking for two cars,” Ivan reluctantly began his tour.
“Why two cars? You only have one, and that’s a domestic one!” Vovchik snorted.
“Well, your foreign car is twenty years old — something to be proud of. We’ll get a second car someday, don’t worry,” Ivan noted, realizing the friends had just come to gape and envy how well Ivan had arranged his country home.
“Hi, Vovchik, didn’t they teach you to greet?” Svetlana came out of the house, already shooting daggers at Vovchik with her eyes. “Where’s Katerina? Forgot her?”
“Hi, if you’re not joking,” Vovchik grumbled reluctantly, “Katya went on holiday, left me here bored alone!” he sighed like a martyr, poured himself a shot, sniffed the aroma of the shashlik, and ran closer to the grill, knowing Svetka hated coal smoke and wouldn’t come near it, afraid to smell like it.
Igor also sat by the grill, not bothering to greet the hostess, poured himself a glass of red wine, and settled on a folding sunbed, admiring the green lawn, symmetrically planted thuja trees, and Svetka’s gorgeous flower bed.
A thought flashed through his head that his ex-wife, and even Igor’s current girlfriend, couldn’t even keep an apartment tidy, but here Ivan kept such a nice lot with a nearly 100-square-meter house, and even the sauna was kept in order. Deep down, Igor looked at Svetka working in the far corner of the lot and caught a trace of envy toward Ivan in his mind.
“Why did he get so lucky? He’s got a house, a plot, a wife with a good head who loves him, and my Marina won’t marry me — she doesn’t see me as a man, just some physio device, so to speak…” Igor thought.
“No, we pretend we have an open relationship, like ‘no obligations’… But I’m the man — I did my part and moved on. But Marina… does she really think that? If I were a real man, she’d cling to me with hands and feet, but here…” Igor thought unhappy thoughts and wanted to tease Ivan a bit more.
“Yeah, bro, you’ve settled well here,” Igor said, taking another sip of wine.
“You’re the one lying down!” Ivan retorted, “I don’t get it, guys, we agreed to celebrate Friday evening together. Svetka prepared so much, and you didn’t even bother to invite your companions?”
“Listen, Vano, you’ve become so boring. Aren’t you tired of your girl this week? I meet Marina twice a week, did my part, then went about my business, and Vovchik just sleeps at home and lounges on the couch at night! And these women annoy us so much during the week, it’s sickening!” Igor teased his friend.
“We’re sitting here without women, it’s good. Nobody watches how much you drink, smoke as much as you want, your smoke doesn’t bother anyone. And we can talk about anything without restrictions,” Vovchik supported his friend.
“What topics, guys? Your only task is to drink well so you can feel your way to the taxi and then to home, and fill your bellies until you’re stuffed. That’s your whole task,” Ivan said resentfully, seeing Svetka upset because she spent all day cooking and trying, and now she had to sit at home alone since the friends showed up as a “men’s company.” Ivan understood she was angrier at him than at his friends.
“You’re lucky — you’ll get drunk without censorship, then go to bed, and all problems will surface only tomorrow around noon when you open your clear eyes. And me… I promised Svetka — under my responsibility… You promised me… Like little kids, honestly,” Ivan didn’t understand.
“Sure, if we said otherwise, you wouldn’t have invited us, and I’d sit now gloomy, listening to Katya’s nonsense, or we’d be drinking beer near the entrance with Igor without enthusiasm. And you’ve got such a space, Vanek — you can set gates on the lawn and play football!” Vovchik remarked.
“Yes, we could have played — I have portable mini-football gates. Rodion already inflated the ball, thinking friends and girlfriends — your kids — would come!” Ivan reproached his friends again.
Both of Ivan’s comrades fell silent. They had nothing to say about the kids. Vovchik had two boys who constantly hung out either at one grandmother’s or the other, sometimes their wives babysat, and Vladimir was too lazy to deal with the kids; he thought it was unmanly.
In general, Vladimir believed a man should stay away from home, only coming back to eat well and sleep. Vovchik usually found a wealthy client, took the order, and sat until evening in the unfinished house, doing wiring. He liked being alone.
Vovchik took provisions, turned on music, brewed coffee, and worked leisurely, whistling along. From Wednesday, he already called friends so as not to miss out on weekend rest.
And Vovchik’s rest should be either in a sauna, fishing, or a resort, but definitely without kids and wives.
Igor had one daughter from his first marriage. He was like a dad — sometimes calling to scold the kid when the mother complained, sometimes giving earrings or visiting, but always respecting personal space. With Marina, his current girlfriend, Igor had no plans for the future, including kids. He just dropped by, ordered shashlik or pizza, sat with beer, then rested, and said, “Well, goodbye.”
The friends couldn’t understand Ivan — how he didn’t get tired of his wife and kids. Ivan’s eldest, Rodion, was already 10, youngest Anya was 5, and Ivan even wanted a third child.
Rodion had already passed by the unfamiliar men five times with his new radio-controlled car, hoping they’d stop drinking and eating and finally pay attention to him, but his quiet “hello” received no response from the distracted friends.
But the boy was persistent. Hearing talk about football, he dragged light plastic goals and started kicking the ball, hoping the men would awaken their youthful enthusiasm and join his football team.
But a few “accidental” passes towards the grilling area were clearly not received well by Vovchik and Igor, considering the precise shots hit the bald heads of the aging drinkers.
“Hey, boy, what’s your name? Stop fooling around!” Vovchik got angry after the ball hit him in the forehead, stood up from the sunbed, and tried to throw the ball to another part of the yard, but missed due to intoxication and fell heavily on the ball.
Anya also ran a few times to the unfamiliar men, loudly trying to start a game, yelling, “What are you doing here?”
“Go away, girl, don’t bother,” Vovchik condescendingly said, “grown-up uncles talk grown-up talks here. If you hear bad words, we’ll be to blame!”
“Are you drinking vodka here?” the insistent girl asked.
“Vodka, vodka! What surprises you? When you grow up, you’ll drink vodka too!” Igor laughed.
“What, your daughter’s already drinking? Well, she’s 16, probably sips beer and does young stuff with a druggie boy in the basement?” Ivan couldn’t tolerate such a remark and gave a more real example — Igor’s child.
“Are you crazy? My daughter’s not like that!” Igor got angry, trying to stand and look Ivan in the eyes, but his drunk body and big beer belly didn’t allow him.
“Well, what do you wish my daughter? Svetka and I don’t set such examples for kids like you do!” Ivan tried to reason with his friend, who never sat down at the table but stood, supporting a tense and unfriendly conversation.
“Well, we’ll show her how to drink!” Vovchik smirked, “and what, our kids don’t see us here, yours do.”
“Exactly, now I’ll give a live lecture to the kids, like at the zoo, on how alcohol affects people, especially when you can’t fit through the gate and hiccup endlessly!” Ivan no longer wanted to tolerate his two drunk and completely insolent friends, took all his wife’s preparations from the table that they hadn’t touched yet, and went inside, leaving the friends alone with themselves, alcohol, and already overcooked shashlik.
“Sorry, Sveta, I thought they were adults, but they were twenty-year-old slackers who can’t keep their word and still are!” Ivan carried his wife’s preparations inside so the devouring machines wouldn’t get them.
“Well, go to your… Apologize, grovel, whatever you do, henpecked!” Ivan’s friends shouted almost in unison from the grilling area.
“Well, bro, you’re my only true friend left; that henpecked one apparently bailed!” Vovchik just stretched with a shot toward Igor.
“Ana… Likewise!” Igor said, interrupting his hiccup.
To the great surprise of the sweet drinking friends, life on the property went on as usual. Ivan pulled a second portable grill out of the shed and started lighting coals. Then, much to Vovchik and Igor’s surprise, a family — old friends of Ivan and Svetka — arrived: a couple with two children. The kids began running around the lawn.
The head of the second family only looked with interest at the two men lying alone on sunbeds.
“And who are you?” the man asked.
“They’re two seals that got stranded here and can’t recover from sea sickness!” Svetlana quipped, commenting on their stillness near the grill.
“You’re the seals!” Vovchik muttered quietly, offended that they were only mocked and ignored.
The children found a new game, running around and filming each other on phones. Ivan and the stranger grilled, while Svetka and her friend sat at a table in the gazebo, cheerfully chatting about girly topics.
The two rejected friends couldn’t get their conversation going — they just glanced at each other, barely nodded, and downed shot after shot, apparently to the health of the homeowners.
“So, your wife really went to the resort?” Igor involuntarily started the conversation.
“No, she went to her mother with the kids; we quarrelled because I didn’t take her to Ivan’s housewarming,” Vovchik said without his usual pride.
“And yours doesn’t seem to be vacationing in the Maldives either?” Vovchik smirked, looking at Igor.
“No, she’s actually in the Maldives, but she didn’t even offer me to fly with her since I don’t have money, and why should she support me… So she went with her girlfriend!” Igor answered unenthusiastically.
“Maybe with a friend… Since you apparently have an open relationship?” Vovchik mocked his friend.
“Maybe with a friend, maybe with other friends, who cares,” Igor yawned demonstratively, pretending not to care.
“I recently went to a massage!” Vovchik winked at Igor to lighten the mood.
“Well… Congratulations!” Igor responded unenthusiastically, sadly watching Ivan enjoy himself with his family and kids.
“No, you didn’t get it — it was a golden massage! I paid twenty grand straight out, but I don’t regret it once. I’m saving for another session,” Vovchik laughed.
“What kind of massage costs twenty thousand? What do they do for that price?” Igor asked with more interest, finally looking at his interlocutor.
“You can’t imagine, Igor, they do everything, the full program!” Vovchik smiled a dark smile.
“Just tell me straight — did it happen or not?” Igor said irritably, raising his voice.
“Of course, it did! And the masseuse is something else,” Vovchik triumphantly answered.
He showed his friend a photo of the woman on his phone.
“Oh… So that’s Lenka, she lives on Sevastopolskaya! I went to her too, but for free! Just drank beer and ordered food from a restaurant!” Igor replied arrogantly, having one-upped his friend.
“So you didn’t actually get a massage!” Vovchik seemed upset he overpaid when he could have gotten it for beer.
“Well, I got enough without massage!” Igor snorted.
In their heated argument about the “masseuse” Lenka, the friends lost vigilance and didn’t notice 10-year-old Rodion sneak up on them with his dad’s phone, filming a short movie about “The Adventures of Two Hussars.”
The first to notice was Vovchik, who was officially married.
“Hey, what’s your name, boy? What naughty thing are you doing?” Vovchik shouted at Rodion and tried to get up from the sunbed, but a numb leg and a big beer belly betrayed him, and he fell heavily on the grass near the table with drinks and food they had grabbed from Ivan’s property.
Vovchik tried to hold onto the table but pulled the tablecloth and everything on it toward himself.
The boy had no intention to run away.
“Well, Uncle Vova, Judge Dredd will deal with the scoundrel Vovanius and pass sentence!” The boy, apparently having watched 90s action movies, tried to imitate the film’s hero. In one hand, he held a smartphone, in the other a water pistol.
When Vovchik froze on all fours, like a crocodile ready to pounce on the boy, he got sprayed with a strong jet of water.
“Share this video with Aunt Katya!” the boy triumphantly said, sending the funny video to Vovchik’s wife from his dad’s phone.
Igor tried to take the phone from the boy, but the boy dodged the second big man and sprayed him with water pistol shots.
“And I know not only your name, Uncle Igor, but also your past and present wives’ names! I’ll share with Aunt Marina and Aunt Olya!” the boy said aloud, laughing at the forwarded message, then ran into the house before being caught.
The friends looked at each other, their drunken brains still not fully grasping what had happened.
“Well, Vanek’s son is just like his dad — a henpecked one!” Vovchik remarked as he got up from the grass and picked up the bottles that miraculously hadn’t broken.
“No, more like his wife — some kind of bitch!” Igor dryly remarked.
The two friends understood it was too late to hurry. Both Vovchik and Igor’s women always kept their phones with them and never missed a message.
Vovchik poured himself a faceted Soviet-style glass full of some drink and downed it without a toast.
A couple of minutes later, Igor got a reply from Marina saying he no longer interested her like a physiotherapy device because hygiene and safety rules weren’t followed, to which Igor replied “OK” understandingly.
But Vovchik was less lucky. About 20 minutes later, his Katya stormed in, armed with a big rolling pin.
“Well? Come here! My lover! He wanted a massage for twenty thousand! Come here, I’ll give you one for free, preferably on the head, or should I massage another place?” Katya, furious, chased Vovchik quickly across Ivan’s yard.
“It was just a massage, Katya! What are you? You go to your nails, so do I…” Vovchik tried to defend himself against his fierce wife.
“Katya, stop! One, two!” Vovchik suddenly yelled so loud that she stopped and looked at him in confusion.
“A gift!” he said loudly as if giving a victorious speech, while Igor solemnly handed over a box with household appliances to Vovchik.
This small electric grill was meant as a housewarming gift for Ivan, but now they had to get out of the situation, and the two friends instantly understood each other.
Igor, trying to march formally, carried the grill on outstretched hands, doing semi-circular pirouettes on the way to Vovchik, unpacked it without incident, and handed him the unit without packaging.
“For you!” Vovchik said briefly. “Bought it!” Suddenly he knelt and presented the gift to his wife, having to make amends for his blunder.
“A grill, you say? So you’ll be running around with other women, wasting the family budget, and I have to cook meat on the grill?” Katya concluded correctly and squeezed her husband’s head with the grill like a clamp, making him squeal a couple of times: “Ow, it hurts, ow!”
The video Rodion shot on his dad’s phone broke all TikTok records.
So friends, sometimes it’s good to play football with kids, or else they’ll invent their own game that will make adults uncomfortable.