Seeing the poor exhausted girl he just couldn't refuse that gentle creature.
"Here's the key, guys. Room number 210."
"Thanks buddy, we really appreciate this," said Innokentiy. In a
second he felt as if something struck him. "Room number two-ten," sounded in Innokentiy's ears, "two-ten." This combination was too familiar to him, but he couldn't remember from where.
They took the key and went upstairs to see the room.

15
As they went up the stairs Innokentiy's mind started to refresh its hard drive searching for valuable information in his memory's archive folders1. Bingo!2 Of course, he remembered the place: it was that same room! No kidding! He remembered everything as vividly as the real life is...
� It was last year. He and Yuri had girlfriends from Russia, who lived in this same motel, in this same room. They used to go out together quite often; Innokentiy with Nadya and Yuri with Lyuba. One day Innokentiy and Yuri had wonderful plans for the night: they had reserved a table in the city's best restaurant. They had hired a limousine, a very long and luxurious one, Lincoln Superstretch3, to take the girls to the restaurant.
Innokentiy picked up the receiver and started dialing their phone number. Lyuba lifted up the mouthpiece.

����������� "Hello," heard Innokentiy on the other end of the wire.
"Hi Lyuba, what's up, girl?"
"Hello, hello," repeated Lyuba, pushing some buttons on the phone and pretending not to be hearing anything.
"Lyuba, are you all right? It's me, Innokentiy, can't you hear me?"
"Hello, hello," was repeating Lyuba.

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