Stories about a winter bathhouse with a woman 18. A story about a winter bathhouse with a wife

It all started in advance, at some regular drinking party, when Yulia and Katya said that they wanted to celebrate their birthday together in the sauna. Interesting. I’ve never been to a sauna before and I don’t have a good tradition like Lukashin’s either. But I was interested in what was proposed.
Has arrived significant date. February 6. During the day, I managed to work as a press service at the opening of the Greco-Roman Wrestling Tournament. But more on this in a separate topic. So that evening came. We met Gleb in the metro and headed to Aviamotornaya, where we picked up Dimon and Senya.
The sauna was in a hellishly ominous place, with its entire appearance saying that “you guys are in the “Hostel” and now they will burn out your eyes, cut your tendons and, in general, you will die a slow painful death,” as in popular American thrillers. The minibus driver dropped us off on the unknown Andronovskoe highway, ahead Railway, on the right are garages, on the left is an industrial zone, a high iron fence and darkness. Hmmm... I wonder what's next. Let's call Katya. Long beeps on the phone, and then “The subscriber’s device is turned off...” with all the ensuing consequences. After about 10 minutes of us following Dimon, who convinced me that he understood where it was and was confidently leading us into the absorbing darkness between factories or something like that, the phone rang:
- Ale... where are you... you need to be right at the intersection behind iron fence checkpoint They will meet you there.
It makes me feel better that we still have to return to the illuminated road, where we were dropped off, and where occasionally cars still pass by and even people are doomedly waiting for something at the bus stop. “Well,” Dima saw the gate, “here we go.”
- Hello! - he stuck his head into the window of the entrance to the stern guy in uniform, - and we should take a steam bath in the bathhouse!
We burst out laughing. The whole appearance of the gate did not give a single hint that behind it there might be a bathhouse or even some kind of entertainment establishment. Perhaps the morgue, the cauldrons of hell and Nikita Dzhigurda, who rules the roost.
“It’s the entrance next door, guys,” the stern guy answered, and we laughed again and moved on.
“Ale, well, we’ve come, meet us,” we called and began to obediently wait. Sitting at the entrance was a young security guard and an old one - the shift leader - who had his feet up on the table and was staring at the TV as old Hulk Hogan, dressed in some kind of "diapers", as it seemed to me, was finishing off someone in a wrestling match.
“Damn, why took so long?” I was still uneasy, when suddenly, from somewhere deep in the building, women’s screams were heard distantly - something between laughter and screams of horror. Pictures from the film “An American Werewolf in Paris” immediately pop into my head, how hundreds of Americans, under the pretext of a party, were led into a huge hall, after which the gates were locked and a group of people, after an injection, turned into werewolves and.. more you can guess what happened. Gleb and Dimon just laughed. Semyon was imperturbably silent and sometimes put on a passive smile.
A girl comes out behind us and in a quiet voice invites us to follow her, through the entrance into the street and further past the dark buildings. While we were walking, I managed to see a map on which many buildings were marked, and several small ones on the outskirts, I decisively declared that the 14th was definitely a morgue or a gas chamber. We went down the stairs to the basement and found ourselves, surprisingly, in a rather positive room. It was warm and humid there, as it probably should be in a sauna. Big hall with a massage chair, a covered table, karaoke and a sofa. Katya, Yulia and Pasechnik were already there, and, having changed clothes, Katya led us further on the excursion. In the next room there was the steam room itself behind a transparent glass slightly tinted door, a pool with cold water, a shower and other amenities. Next there was another door, behind which a steep staircase led to the second floor, upon rising to which a large, large bed was revealed, which made us noticeably happy and smiled mysteriously.
Of all the guests, the only one left to wait was Valentin, who, in the spirit of his manners, was late as usual, but soon pulled himself up and began to scold.
Naturally, the first entry into the bathhouse. Everyone is in swimsuits and swimming trunks (Dimon wears a thong as a matter of principle). Katyukha and I refused to go to the sauna, because we don’t understand this dubious buzz, all this sweating, jumping into the pool and in general, mascara will run... well, it’s better to talk...

Come on, Light, let's go take a steam bath!
“Well, I don’t want to, I’m afraid that I’ll suddenly feel bad,” I broke down with all my might, “I’ve already drunk, especially and I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Well, I’m also in a thong, so what,” Dima repeated in unison with everyone else, persuading me to comprehend this procedure.
“Well, let’s see, I’ll drink a little more and think about it,” the champagne was already flowing in the heat.

Aaaaah... how are you sitting here! This is fucked up, ahh... I can’t breathe... damn it,” Katyukha, who was sitting next to me, covered her face with her hands, we both felt like chickens in the oven.
“If you could also sunbathe here, it would be great,” someone said from the top bunk. God, how they sit there and still talk, it’s already so unbearable for me downstairs.
I jumped out, greedily gulping in the cool air and pouring myself out of the shower (I didn’t dare jump into the pool), the realization began to come to me that it seemed fun for everyone to take a steam bath together.
Then there were several more visits, each time there was less and less clothes for everyone, despite the fact that there wasn’t that much of it, or rather practically none, but Yulia and I just lost our bras on the way, Valyan was steaming in Adam's suit, covering the painful area with an oak leaf. Intelligent remarks like “Uh... Dima, your testicle fell out” were heard with very serious faces, after which the entertaining game “StringoTwister” began, everyone putting tens into a massage chair, because the discoverer of this pleasure discovered that there was even a massage fifth point and with wild delight and hysterical laughter notified everyone about this: “Oooooh.... fuck.. fuck.. there’s a strapooon, strapoooon!”
More champagne... Karaoke songs... champagne... bathhouse... champagne... bed... champagne... champagne... bathhouse... bed... the screen went dark, leaving a fading white dot in center.

Svetochka:
Dim, tell Gleb that you didn’t stare at my tits when I took off my bra in the sauna. I don’t even understand why I did this. You didn't look, did you?
Dimon SHNIDR:
))))))))))))) It’s the same as if I took off my thong and sat without a thong. Would you stare?))))
Svetochka:
Um... Well, maybe I would have looked briefly, but then I would have immediately looked away)))))))
Dimon SHNIDR:
Ahahahahahahaha....))))

Masya, I feel soooo bad, I got my felt boots dirty..
- I told you yesterday, and you sneeee... sneeee...

22.01.2016

I think that every person living in Russia will be very interested in listening to the history of the Russian bathhouse. After all, we go to it, but we don’t know where this tradition came from, who brought it to us. In this article we will try to tell you about this.

The Russian bath originated from very ancient times. Herodotus himself also said that the Scythians who lived in Ukraine used a bathhouse. They installed three sticks inclined towards each other, and covered this “structure” with felt. Then, they installed a vat in the middle of the resulting “room” and threw hot stones into it. Having climbed into this bathhouse, they threw hemp seed into the vat, which caused intense heat to rise.

Among all nations, the bathhouse was considered a special, sacred place. The saying that after washing in a bath it is as if you were born again goes back to ancient times. Below we will consider which peoples and countries began to introduce the bathhouse into their culture.

Certain tribes of America still use the “ancient” bathhouse to this day. That is, a cone-shaped hut was built, in the middle of which a small depression was dug. Stones heated over a fire were placed in this hole and water was sprinkled on them. Now this method is used by tourists, forwarders, geologists and others.

Procopius of Caesarea, a historian who lived in the 5th century AD, wrote that the bathhouse was an integral part of the life of the ancient Slavs. In the baths they celebrated all the celebrations, washed the child who had just been born, and in the same way escorted the deceased to the other world. At that time, the bathhouse was “built” something like this: in the corner (in the house) a hearth was built from stones, and somewhere a window was opened to allow smoke to escape, and there was also a container of water with which hot stones were sprinkled. Each person took a broom in his hands and, waving it around, attracted heat to himself. In this way, people cleansed their body and soul. The bathhouse is a combination of four elements (as the ancestors believed) - fire, water, earth and air. A person who took a steam bath became stronger and healthier. There was even an opinion that if the patient was not cured after the bath, then nothing would help him. East Slavic myths mention that the bathhouse was used by the Gods themselves.

In Russia, a steam bath in the 5th century was called mylnya or vlaznya. Already at that time people enjoyed this grace. Regardless of whether a person is rich or poor, he could afford to cleanse himself in the bathhouse. The bathhouse was a consolation from problems, evil eyes and adversity. A little later, inviting a person to the bathhouse became the basis of hospitality. To begin with, the guest was called to “cleanse himself” and only then was he treated to drinks and food.

For the first time you could read about the bathhouse in the inventories genius man monk Nestor the Chronicler. His “Tale of Bygone Years” says that the bathhouse was first mentioned in the 1st century AD. This happened when the Holy Apostle Andrew, after preaching the gospel teaching in Kyiv, went to Novgorod, a “real miracle” appeared before his eyes. People entered the bathhouse naked and “warmed up” there until they were the color of boiled crayfish, after which they doused themselves with water and beat each other until exhaustion with brooms. This ritual took place daily. For St. Apostle Andrew this was savagery; he commented on it like this: “people joyfully torture themselves.” Also, based on Nestor’s description, you can find out that in 906 an agreement was concluded between Russia and Byzantium, which dealt with... a bathhouse. It was stated there that upon the arrival of the Byzantine merchants they should be given water, food and allowed to steam in the bathhouse as much as they wanted. Eat interesting fact, which occurred in 945. After the death of Prince Igor, Princess Olga took revenge on the Drevlyans three times, and when the Drevlyan ambassadors arrived to negotiate with the princess, she ordered the bathhouse to be lit for them. The unsuspecting ambassadors were calmly washing themselves off the road when Olga’s servants locked them outside and they burned alive.

The first baths were built exclusively from logs, but in 1090 a brick bathhouse was built in the city of Pereslavl.

At that time, visitors from other countries (Germans, French), having experienced first-hand what a Russian bathhouse was, began to build similar ones in their countries. But these baths were very different from real Russian ones. Few travelers could withstand such a high temperature (in some baths it could reach up to 100 degrees), and they could not imagine how Russian people accepted such hot air masses. Smart foreign doctors knew that steaming in a bathhouse is very useful, as a diaphoretic for the body, but since Russians steam, it’s not only not useful, but even dangerous. They argued that this caused brain and muscle tissues to relax and function worse, and for female skin and youth was extremely detrimental. But even foreigners knew that the Russians had such a day - “bath”, it was a Saturday day on which it was customary to take a steam bath.

Those who did not have a bath could steam directly in the oven. They swept the floor clean, covered it with straw, and as the foreigners said about this, “they steamed so hard that the breath flew out of them.” But nevertheless, these methods are still used to this day, albeit rarely.

At that time, using the healing methods of Hippocrates, Russian healers (having learned about the benefits of the bath) began to help sick people. In the charter of Prince Red Sun (as Vladimir was popularly called) there were baths for the “infirm.” These were the first in Rus', a kind of hospital. At the beginning of the 12th century, the granddaughter of Vladimir Monomakh, the famous healer and healer Eupraxia, lived in Rus'. She, one might say, preached visiting the bathhouse. Already at the age of 15, she was wooed to the Tsarevich of Tsaregrad and moved to live with him. Having quickly studied Greek language, Eupraxia read the ancient recipes of powerful healers - Hippocrates, Asclepiad and Galen. Becoming, over time, a healer, thanks to a large number studied recipes, she preached personal hygiene. Eupraxia said about baths that they strengthen the body and spirit of a person.

The history of the Russian bath is associated with many interesting events, which, like history, it would not hurt to know to contemporaries.

Regardless of who it was, the king or the commoner, everyone had to observe the “wandering” custom at that time. After spending the night together, people had to go to the bathhouse in the morning, and then bow before the images. Devout people were afraid to go to church even a few days after spending the night together. Such people succumbed to light ridicule and jokes (after all, it is quite strange when several people stand in front of the church and do not go inside). Until the beginning of the 18th century, everyone exclusively underwent the following ritual. Before the wedding, the groom had to take a steam bath, and after the night the couple went there together. The bride's mother, on the eve of the wedding, baked bread, which was called "bannik", thus blessing the newlyweds for happy life. She wrapped this bread, two fried birds (most often chicken) and two cutlery sets in a tablecloth, sewed them up and gave them to the matchmaker. This was done so that after the newlyweds left the bathhouse, the matchmaker would treat them to this blessed lunch. People firmly believed that the bathhouse would wash away all their sins.

Every rich and poor person had a bathhouse in their home; as for the very poor, there were common bathhouses for them.

The bathhouse was the place without which not a single Russian person could imagine himself. She gave peace, pleasure, relaxation, cured illnesses, and rejuvenated the soul. It was a ritual that could not be ignored. Before entering the bathhouse itself, a person was given a radish, and in case of thirst, there was always cool kvass in the dressing room. Very important role mint and other aromatic herbs played. Mint was put into kvass, the benches were covered with mint, dominique and other fragrant herbs. Mostly birch trees were used.

After the Russian bathhouse became common in virtually every country, different peoples made their own adjustments to it. For example, Islam correlated cleansing in the bathhouse with religious thoughts, just like that.

Now no one can reliably say where the Russian bathhouse originated. Some say it was brought by the Spartans, others think it was brought by the Arabs, but it is quite likely that the Russian bathhouse was invented by the Slavs. Why not? This assumption is confirmed somewhat interesting moments. Since Russians washed in bathhouses, no one had ever washed, that is, their ancestors had their own “style” in this matter. The fact how foreigners praised Russian heritage and the fact that only after contemplating it in Rus' they began to build the same ones in their own country. Who knows, maybe the Slavic forefathers really are the founders of this wonderful ritual.

In general, anyone who had land for it could build a bathhouse. And in the middle of the 17th century, a decree was even issued on how far from a residential building a bathhouse should be built. This was done solely for safety. In home baths, both women and men washed together, without any embarrassment, but the common ones were divided into men's and female half. And only in 1734 there was a ban on the entry of men into the women's baths, and women into the men's baths.

In 1733, permission was issued to build medicinal baths. It was forbidden to keep alcoholic beverages in them. As a rule, such baths were built from logs. The art of construction was passed down from generation to generation, and people did not use any drawings or graphics. The ancestors approached the question of where to place the building very important and scrupulously. This was no less important than establishing a site for the construction of a church. In the Russian bath there were no rooms with different temperatures, as in the Roman thorns, but they had a room with lavas of different heights, that is, the higher, the hotter.

During the time of Peter I, the chamberlain cadet Berkholz lived in St. Petersburg, who in his notes about Russia described all the charm of the Russian bathhouse and the level of service in them. Russian women knew how to set the desired temperature correctly, how hard to “brush” with a broom, and at what point to throw cold water on them.

Peter I then lived the life of a simple carpenter, and he, like other Russian people, had a bathhouse, without which he could not imagine his life. It was he who, as a result, became the first organizer of medical resorts in Russia, built on the basis of a bathhouse. Having visited many foreign resorts and hydropathic clinics, Peter I ordered that these healing waters be found in Russia. Thus, “marcial waters” were discovered for the first time. They got this name due to the fact that the water turned out to be ferrous, and therefore they named it in honor of the god of war - Mars. Peter I contributed to the fact that Russian baths became more common in Western Europe. He ordered the construction of baths for his soldiers in Paris and Amsterdam. And after the battle with Napoleon, baths were built in all liberated countries.

The Russian bathhouse - its history is quite interesting, and it begins to change a little with the coming to power of Peter I. At that time, “fashion” and inclinations to ancient culture. They began to erect buildings similar to Roman houses. A replica of Roman thorns was built indoors Grand Palace in Tsarskoe Selo.

As you can find out from sources, many people liked to visit Russian baths famous personalities. Suvorov organized a “washing” for his soldiers in whatever city they were in (the main thing was that there was a Russian bathhouse there). The de general himself withstood very intense heat, after which he took on about 10 buckets of cold water. Denis Davydov often came, as did the singer and actress Sanduna. It is important that after the singer’s arrival, a type of bathhouse was named “Sandunovsky baths” in her honor. They differed from the rest in their buffet and a large number of drinks, including champagne.

In 1874, in St. Petersburg alone there were about 312 bathhouses. All of them were supplied with Neva water. These baths were divided into “trade” and “numeric”. A visit to the commercial bathhouse cost from 50 kopecks to 10 rubles, which was quite expensive, and not everyone could afford it. In the “numbered” baths the prices were more moderate, that is, they were made for poor people. They were divided into 3 classes: 1st class - 15-40 kopecks, 2nd class - 8-15 kopecks, 3rd class - 3-5 kopecks, which was, in general, available to everyone.

In order to make the process more pleasant for the “soul and body,” the Russians furnished the bathhouse with various attributes. But still, each family bathhouse differed from each other in its design, temperature conditions and approach to the treatment of diseases.

Video about the history of the Russian bath:

Today I want to tell you one funny story which happened to me in the village.
In the evening in our village before the holiday, it is customary to heat the bathhouse, but no one likes to go alone.
The four of us gathered in the bathhouse: me, my cousin, her husband and my brother. And our bathhouse consists of three sections.
The dressing room, there we have chairs, a table, an electric kettle, tea leaves and, most importantly, playing cards.
The steam room is small, but there are two shelves: one higher, the other lower.
And the bathhouse, they only wash there.
So, the four of us came to the bathhouse. We looked at the degrees in the steam room, it seemed too low for us, and we began to play cards (we all sat dressed). And then our boys decided who would go for a steam bath and who would wash when.
The boys went to take a steam bath first, and we remained sitting in the dressing room. My sister and I got bored, and we went to the bathhouse - there is a window that looks out onto the steam room. We wanted to scare the boys. We slowly went into the bathhouse, went to the window, and there it was a bummer. They hung a towel on the window. They screwed us over, in a word. Well, then my sister and I went to the dressing room and began to think new plan laugh at them.
While we were thinking, the guys left the steam room and immediately went to the bathhouse. And we go to the steam room with her. Accordingly, they took the towel. We
hung theirs. And we decided to laugh at them in a different way - look out the window, and then scare them. But they screwed us over again. They hung a towel on that side too. Well, we got completely bored, and we were lying on the shelves, warming up, when suddenly a towel fell from the window. And there were two faces in the window... She and I managed to crawl under the benches so that they wouldn’t see us naked.
Well, here we were in a good mood, and we went to the dressing room to cool off a little. I told my sister to sit quietly and I would make fun of the boys. I slowly left the dressing room and walked up to the door that leads to the bathhouse. I suddenly open it and run into the steam room. All you could hear from the bathhouse was screaming and yelling.
I left the steam room as if nothing had happened, our boys came out of the bathhouse, both angry. And they said:
- Well, hold on, we will take revenge on you for such a joke...
Hmm, we won't be able to take revenge. My sister and I went to the bathhouse in towels, and the boys remained sitting in the dressing room; I made the dressing room door a drawer. ® Well, so that they definitely don’t do this to us. Entering the bathhouse, I hung a towel on the window.
And we began to wash, calmly listening to every rustle. When suddenly the door to the bathhouse opens. However, we did not hear them move the box away from their door. Olya (my sister) grabs a basin and covers herself with it; she was lucky, and the basin turned out to be small. And she is plump for me. And I stood behind the stove. I only had a ladle in my hand, since at that moment I was pouring hot water. A
They, the pests, stood and watched as we covered ourselves, and laughed at us; we ourselves almost died with laughter.

They left and said:
- Wash calmly...
Well, yes, you can easily wash yourself with them, my sister and I put a stick in the door so that they wouldn’t open it. ® But outside the door we hear a rumble, that they are moving something there. Well, we spat on them and began to wash ourselves calmly. We decided that we would open the door later. And they shout to us:
“You won’t leave the bathhouse and you won’t get into the dressing room.”
We didn't take their words seriously. We washed ourselves and began to open the door, we both wrapped ourselves in towels, Olya wanted to open it with a run
the door, but it turned out that there was nothing at the door - it flew out of the bathhouse like a champagne cork. From the dressing room we only heard laughter, my sister was already laughing herself, I didn’t even have the strength to hold a towel. We safely entered the dressing room and tried to kick the boys out so we could get dressed. They didn’t let us get dressed, so we then took our things and went to the steam room to get dressed. Sister held the door
and I got dressed, and then vice versa. Well, here we decided to laugh at them too. Since they were both pulling the door, my sister and I will let go of the door one, two, three....
We let go of the door, the guys fall onto the chair.
This is how we took revenge on them for the fall of Olya.
That's how we had fun going to the bathhouse.

The story is real 😀

Every year in Maundy Thursday On the eve of Easter, Orthodox Christians wash away accumulated sins. It is generally accepted that going to the bathhouse on this day is a primordial domestic tradition which Russians have followed for many centuries. In fact, this is a legend created by foreigners who have never been to Rus' anywhere except Moscow and large cities. Only the wealthiest Russian people could afford their own bathhouse. The majority steamed in Russian ovens, risking burning and getting dirty in soot. Even at the end of the 19th century, there were entire provinces where residents for centuries washed only twice - at birth and after death. Not less legends created later and around public baths in cities. But, judging by the documents, family rooms, for example, in the legendary baths were used not by families, but by prostitutes to receive clients, while family people did not go there for fear of contracting bad diseases.

"They come out as God created them"

True, a considerable number of residents Russian Empire They solved the problem of choosing between a bathhouse and a stove much simpler - they didn’t wash at all. In 1876, Alexander II appointed chamberlain V. Charykov at the head of the Minsk province. The new governor arrived at his new destination from Vyatka, where for six years he ruled a vast forest region with some success. So one could imagine his surprise when he learned that the inhabitants of the territories under his jurisdiction from now on did not have baths, did not wash in stoves and never bathed in rivers and other bodies of water. There were many reasons given for this. It was believed that the Catholic landowners, not having the habit of baths themselves, did not accustom the peasants to them either. Perhaps it was a matter of constant severe fatigue, due to which the peasants did not have enough strength not only to build a bathhouse, but also to simply bring water for washing in the hallway, as was done in the southern parts of the country. Swimming in rivers and lakes was not common outside the Minsk province. After all, the swimming season lasted from June 24, from Ivan Kupala, until Ilyin’s day - July 20, and besides, the water even at that time not in every body of water in the middle zone warmed up above 15-17 degrees.

However, in the villages of Russian Old Believers who fled from the “Nikon heresy” outside the Moscow state, everything was completely different: on Saturdays and before holidays, bathhouses were heated, and children splashed on the river shallows in the summer.

Chamberlain Charykov decided that hygiene came first and issued a strict decree on the widespread construction of baths and the organization of bathing places on rivers, lakes and ponds. But the authorities in the counties were in no hurry to implement the strict instructions. As a rule, all district leaders referred to the lack of funds for the purchase of timber and the construction of bathhouses, as well as the fact that the bottom of the rivers was swampy and the peasants could not be driven into the water by any force. But from the Pinsk district they reported that no one wants to go to the built baths, and in their justification they cited a local proverb: “Pinchuk washes himself twice in his life - at birth and after death.” However, the governor insisted on his own, and the baths were built with a creak. But this did not bring any results. One of the doctors who inspected the province wrote in the 1890s that, while driving through the districts, he constantly encountered the ruins of bathhouses built by order of Charykov. Only a few survived, in the district towns, which were used by officials and teachers sent from the Great Russian provinces.

The same author stated that hydrophobia in the Minsk province affects not only peasants, but also representatives of other classes. And as an example, he told the story of a priest’s widow, who had a tangle - her hair became tangled from lack of care and turned into tow, which was impossible to comb. The easiest thing would be to cut your hair, but folk beliefs, in this case, the mat penetrated into the head, so the priest endured it as long as she could, and then, when the hair became too heavy and threatened to break her neck, she fell ill and was in this state for 42 years. Moreover, as the doctor noted, she was looked after all this time by two daughters who did not marry in order to care for their mother. And there were many similar examples in those places, as the author of the report stated, although not so grotesque.

Much more effective means The introduction of baths in places where they had never existed in the first place resulted in a transition from conscription to compulsory military service. During their service, soldiers and sailors became accustomed to baths and cleanliness, and those of them who, after serving, returned to their native places, often tried to acquire their own steam room. But an even greater role in the spread of baths was played by the growth of peasant incomes. After all, the bathhouse, as in former times, remained a symbol of prestige and wealth. Due to the revolution and wars, the process, however, was somewhat delayed, and in many Russian villages traditional Russian baths appeared only many decades later - in the era of developed socialism.

"These rooms are breeding grounds for infection"

It was much more difficult for city residents to acquire their own bathhouse. However, these subjects of the empire could always use the services of public and industrial baths. The latter, in factories and factories, were subject to constant criticism from the progressive Russian public. In almost all enterprises, a considerable fee for using the bathhouse - 5-7 kopecks per session - was deducted from the workers' salaries, and the owners strove to save on fuel or bathhouse equipment, which did not happen in private bathhouses. St. Petersburg artist M. Grigoriev wrote:

“At the entrance to the vestibule of the bathhouse, the first thing that caught your eye was a large icon case with a lamp, which was supposed to call on the grace of God for trading. On the sides there were counters on which they sold brooms, soap, sponges, washcloths, towels, socks, soaked and frozen apples, gingerbread , candies, beer, lemonade, kvass. There was also a cash register; special metal cases contained rolls of tickets that the cashier tore off.”

Private baths, as a rule, were heated and maintained much better than factory ones, but most often they turned out to be much more expensive.

“Pay,” St. Petersburg writers testified, “was by class - 5, 10, 20, 40 kopecks and family rooms for 1 ruble. In the cheap classes (5 and 10 kopecks) in the locker rooms, the benches were painted wooden, clothes were handed over to the headman. expensive baths (20 and 40 kopecks) had soft sofas and ottomans in white covers, outerwear I put it on the hanger, but the dress and underwear did not give up. The soap benches were wooden, unpainted. The family rooms had a dressing room with an ottoman and soft chairs in white covers and a soap room with a shelf, a bathtub, a shower and a large wooden bench.”

True, in many bathhouses family rooms were called so purely nominally.

“In order for the whole family to wash,” Grigoriev recalled, “there were special rooms in the baths and on the signs they wrote: “ Family baths"In fact, these rooms were occupied by prostitutes with their gentlemen, and even by patients with obvious signs of bad diseases on their bodies. It was believed that these rooms were breeding grounds for infection, and people avoided going to them."

Wealthy gentlemen, as a rule, preferred washing with the help of bathhouse attendants:

"IN expensive classes“,” testified the same source, “for steaming and washing, they hired bathhouse attendants who were experts in their field: a broom played in their hands, at first politely and gently touching all parts of the visitor’s body, gradually the force of the blow grew stronger until encouraging interjections were heard . Here, on the part of the bathhouse attendant, there must be a subtle instinct in order to stop in time and not offend the person lying down. Then the bathhouse attendant proceeded to a home-grown massage: he seemed to chop the visitor’s body with the ribs of his palms, then rubbed them with patting and, finally, with an unexpectedly strong and dexterous movement he brought the visitor to a sitting position.”

Despite the hardships of the work, serving in the bathhouse was a good way to get out into the world.

“The bathhouse attendants did not receive a salary,” Zasosov and Pyzin testified, “they were content with tips. Their work was hard, but they still tried to get into the artel of bathhouse attendants, since the income was good and the work was clean. In addition, at the bathhouse there was a hostel for singles and single people. The stokers, cashiers and laundresses were hired and received a salary. The most profitable place was in the corridor family rooms; there were a lot of tips for various services.”

It happened that the path from serving in a bathhouse to owning one’s own business did not always turn out to be righteous. St. Petersburg writers of everyday life recalled the story of the cashier from the bathhouses of the Tarasov brothers, which thundered at the beginning of the 20th century:

“At first, in his youth, he worked as a bellhop at the hotel rooms. A broken-hearted, very helpful, handsome Yaroslavl soon attracted attention with his efficiency and intelligence and was promoted to the position of cashier of the baths. As the years passed, Nikita grew fat and with his handsome appearance began to resemble his face and figure pa famous composer Glazunov. But later it was discovered that his resemblance to this noble, impeccable man was purely external. In fact, he turned out to be a big “masurik”: in addition to Tarasov’s tickets, he ordered rolls of his own tickets and began to quickly trade them: one ticket was real - Tarasov’s, the other was his own. The profitability of the bathhouses began to noticeably decrease, and the figure of the cashier began to gain weight. The cashier began to dress according to latest fashion, wore a tie pin and diamond cufflinks and a double-breasted gold chain, on one end is her gold watch, and on the other is a gold stopwatch, which he needs when playing on the run. But he had a small salary, 70 rubles, and an apartment near a bathhouse with heating and lighting. In addition to this scam, he committed commercial fraud when accepting coal and firewood for the bathhouse and had income from suppliers of beer and lemonade. His art was opened and reported to the owner. Tarasov said: “Kick out this scoundrel immediately.” The manager reported: “He has a family, we need to give him time to settle in.” - “To hell with him, give him two weeks, and then provide him with a horse to transport the property.” Tarasov and his manager turned out to be naive people: Nikitka had already rented two bathhouses in St. Petersburg, which neither the Tarasovs nor their manager knew anything about. He got ready in two days, he already had an apartment at the rented bathhouses, and threw such a housewarming party with champagne that the invitees just gasped.”

Sasha entered the steam room without knocking, with his torso wrapped in a sheet, two brooms in one hand and a mug in the other.
- Oyk! - I yelped and quickly turned over on my stomach.
The hot air from the rapid movement burned my knees. I carefully straightened my felt hat and began to stealthily watch Sasha from over her shoulder, from under her half-closed eyelashes. The guy turned out to be well-built, well-built, with curly hair on his chest and stomach. My lips shamelessly stretched into a smile, and I hid my face.
- Well, how? Eh, Irinka? - Sasha asked.
-Are you going to hit me? - I asked slyly, raising my head.
- What did you think?

Sasha put on roughly sewn mittens, poured kvass from a mug into a ladle of water and splashed it into the hole at the top of the stove. Transparent steam rushed up and to the sides with a sharp noise, and washed over me with a hot wave. The small steam room was filled with the tantalizing smell of bread. Sasha lightly patted me with two brooms, waved them, driving the hot grain spirit around me. The harmless pats became stronger and more persistent, the air burned the nostrils, and it became difficult to breathe. I asked for mercy.
“Lie down,” my tormentor ordered.
- I... Oh... Oh...
I moaned, unable to say a word. The owner gave a couple again.
“Turn over,” he said.
- Uh!
- Turn over, who did you tell?
It was an order. I obediently rolled over onto my back and covered my nipples with my palms, not because I was embarrassed - I no longer cared - but because they burned unbearably. I was suffocating, there was not enough air. The lungs contracted almost empty.
- Oh...

Only one thought rushed through my head in panic: “I will die... I will die...”. Sasha laughed quietly and continued to mercilessly whip me with brooms. What was happening seemed unreal to me, the walls of the steam room looked cartoonish and drawn. I couldn’t think of anything when Sasha put the brooms aside, grabbed me tightly by the forearms, lifted me off the shelf and set me on my feet. I caught a glimpse of water boiling in a kettle. The guy, still holding me by the forearm, took me out of the bathhouse - what I was wearing, naked - and pushed me into the bathtub with spring water, which poured there from natural source. The water is clean, cold, blue-colored, and sweetish in taste. I didn't feel the cold.

I got out of the bath on my own, Sasha delicately returned to the bathhouse. In the dressing room, she somehow threw a sheet over herself and collapsed on the bench in complete helplessness. She stretched out on it as far as the length allowed. Thank you, I’m still alive... Just now I discovered that I’m still wearing a bath cap. She pulled it off and put it under her head. The body was flooded by a hot wave - a consequence of the ice bath. It felt like I was breathing fire. From the steam room came the sharp blows of a broom - my bath attendant had now taken charge of himself. There is no comparison with the city bathhouse, with its crowd, cold locker room and unpleasant smell in the stuffy steam room.

Sasha jumped out of the steam room, passed the washing room in two steps and rushed past - burgundy, steaming, with a birch leaf on his buttock. A powerful splash and a valiant hoot came from the street.
He returned, hiding his dignity in a fistful, hunched over like a penguin. He pushed his butt behind the washroom door and called:
- Let's go, Irish!
- Where?
- How to where? Wash.
Water dripped from his steamed face, one eye blinked, the other rotated. I suddenly realized that I was embarrassed by nudity, both his and mine. I was surprised - why did I suddenly become shy?
- Not...
- As you want. Drink kvass and go wash yourself, I’ll rest for now.

So we washed ourselves - taking turns, belatedly embarrassed by each other. Sasha went to the steam room again. The bathhouse exhausted me so much that I didn’t know how to get out of the washroom or how to get dressed. She wandered into the country house, where she fell on the bed.

I prepared dinner in advance, before the bathhouse, in the summer kitchen. The kitchenette is neat, with a landscape painted on the entire wall, with curtains. There was a guitar on a stool in the corner. Now Sasha and I had dinner and told each other about ourselves. We met two years ago. More precisely, they only saw each other on the ship, where Sasha was the third mate at that time. I brought it to the captain customs declarations. Then I saw him at a corporate New Year’s party; he had just landed. We even talked about something. And from then on they began to say hello if they saw each other on the ship or on the street.
Now he admitted that he was afraid to approach... I was surprised:
- Why?
- Well, you're so... So...
- Come on... to the bathhouse. You’re already the second assistant, and you’re talking such nonsense,” I laughed.

Sasha is a prominent guy. At the New Year's party, the girls from the neighboring department “hung” on him like dogs on a bear.
- Shh! Don’t make any noise,” he hissed. - If you disturb a brownie at night, he won’t let you sleep, he’ll scare you.
- Yah?
- Do not believe? The brownie lives here. When a brother comes to rest with friends, they make a noise, and then all night long they listen to the brownie walking around the dacha and dropping everything.
I laughed and didn’t believe it. But brother - this is already interesting.
“I also have a brother, three years younger,” I said.
“Mine is also three years younger,” Sasha rejoiced. -Have you noticed that the moles on our hands match? These four things?
The moles really did match, and that seemed important.
- You know, I always liked you. Smiling as the bright sun.
“And also kind and aggressive like a man,” I added mentally.

The guy reached for the guitar, but I stopped him:
- Sasha, I’m barely alive after the bath. Let me wash the dishes and go to bed. Tomorrow you will sing to me.
He laughed:
- Did you like the bathhouse? Go, lie down. I'll wash the dishes myself. You still have time...
I ignored the last remark and trudged to the second floor, where there was an old, old sofa, forever laid out. I liked the dacha. The village is small, quiet, with neat dilapidated houses, mostly two-story. There was silence, only a restless bird whistled outside the walls and the muffled clanking of dishes could be heard from the summer kitchen.
Sasha arrived about twenty minutes later. Hastily undressed in the dark and climbed under the blanket. I hid in the very corner, turned away from him, scared and happy.
- Where are you? - Sasha asked in a broken voice. He found me, grabbed me with his hand across my stomach and pulled me towards him.

I was floundering in a thick web and could not get out of it. I'm half to death afraid of the web, how did I manage to climb into it?! Gasping with horror, I frantically waved my arms. Sasha came up from behind and pulled me out of the snare. A scream of horror escaped from my throat, I heard it from the side and did not recognize my own voice - there was nothing human in the scream. She sat down on the bed, breathing heavily, covered in sweat, cold and sticky. Sasha woke up, sat up too, and hugged me.
- Dream, Sasha... I had a dream...
- Brownie, brownie, why did you scare her? This is my wife... Don't scare me anymore.
Which wife?
- This is a brownie, don’t be afraid, Ira. He's harmless, just scary.
Now I was ready to believe in anything.
- He won't scare you anymore?
- Will not be. One time and that's it. I told him...
- I never scream in my sleep. I watch my nightmares in silence. For the first time, honestly!
- That's it, that's it, don't be afraid. Sleep.

We settled down. Sasha immediately fell asleep, and I lay awake, wondering why he called me his wife. He's only been caring for me for a week. All this is not serious. Of course, it was time for me to settle down, to decide something with my chaotic, stupid life. I enjoyed my personal freedom and used it as I pleased. I didn't like life in a civil marriage. Deep down in my heart, I wanted to get married - “for real”, because I didn’t value an “unofficial” marriage one bit. I broke up with my roommate, got sad and forgot. I no longer wanted to fulfill the duties of a wife. The kitchen, dishes, and cleaning made me sad. What kind of wife am I? If I marry Sasha, I will have to not only cook, but cook deliciously, there will be twice as much dishes, and there will be twice as much cleaning. You will have to wash his socks and iron his shirts, adapt to his preferences, shortcomings and endure a lot. I don’t know what exactly yet. And he also said yesterday that he wants two children. It's horrible. From the thought that for several years I would not belong to myself, every cell of my body protested. No, I don't want to.

I listened - was there a brownie wandering around the dacha? There was such silence that it was ringing in my ears. I snuggled up against Sasha’s hot back, still unfamiliar, and fell asleep.

The Sakhalin June night chilled the air, the morning came suburban village fog. I woke up early. She lay quietly under Sasha’s side, listening to the birds chirping and chirping. Smiled. I didn't want to think about anything. The bones and muscles steamed in the bath were still languishing in bliss.
Sasha woke up. I hadn’t opened my eyes yet, but I went in for a kiss - Ira, Irishka... He crushed me under him. There is a joyful smile on his face. The sweetest intercourse of love is in the morning, when the body is only half awake, the blind passion has been slightly extinguished during the night, but the sighted tenderness does not sleep.

Tired, Sasha reluctantly released me and stood up:
- The stove needs to be lit.
I threw back the blanket with the intention of getting up, yelped from the cold and darted back.
“It’s not the month of May,” the owner joked, quickly got dressed and went down to the first floor with a roar. I lay in the warmth, listening to him fire the stove. Thoughts wandered nearby, sensible and not so sensible, I lazily drove them away.

When it got warmer in the house, I got dressed and went to wash. She went out to the threshold and stood there. The fog shrouded the birch trees and fir trees around the dacha, covering the massive table with benches and long beds. Gray smoke from the chimney mixed with whitish fog. Lilies of the valley grew next to the porch, and a little further away there was a huge carpet of forget-me-nots. “If I marry him, I’ll plow these beds,” I thought, spoiled my mood, shivered from the damp cold and went to the bathhouse.

It was warm and dry there, and I washed my face with pleasure. I couldn't comb my hair. Hair from spring water They became soft, fluffy and did not want to obey. “Why did I decide that he was going to marry me? - I thought. - We're not in a fairy tale. He calmed me down at night so that I wouldn’t be afraid, that’s all. Yes, and you have to marry for love. But the heart is silent." Satisfied with this thought and completely upset, I wandered into the summer kitchen to prepare breakfast.

The stove was already burning there too. I started making croutons. Sasha came, possessively grabbed my sides so that I squeaked, and sat down on the dry stool.
- What did you dream about?
“Oh,” I waved it off. - Web. It’s like I’m flopping around in it, and you pulled me out. I'm so afraid of her that my legs are paralyzed.
- I found something to be afraid of. I'll laugh - I'm afraid of geese. When I was a child, I was attacked by a goose in the village, and the fear remained.
- Why did you call me your wife? - I couldn’t resist.
- So you’re here for a long time!
- Why?
- The brownie only scares his own people. When we bought the dacha, we did it all at first scary dreams watched. They took turns yelling. Then they stopped. How many guests spent the night with us - no one dreamed of anything. So, Ir...” Sasha spread his hands and laughed. - Think what you want. When should I look after you? In a week - at sea. Will you wait?
“No, Sasha, think what you want. Your brownie was mistaken. And why would you want a prostitute? Not only is she a prostitute, she’s also a greedy, drunkard and show-off.”
- I’m terrible, Sasha, you just don’t know.
- Nice, kind! And you cook deliciously.
Sasha drank tea and toast and strummed his guitar.

Well, what can I tell you about Sakhalin?
The weather on the island is normal.
The surf salted my vest,
And I live at the very sunrise...
(Words by Mikhail Tanich)

I was acutely aware of the thin, ghostly thread that had stretched between us a week ago, and I was afraid to move so as not to break it with a careless movement or a sigh. And Sasha sang, looking at me with loving eyes - velvet and butter, and his strong, free voice lifted me from the ground...

A year later, in May or June, I talked to the brownie. I thought I was talking to Andreika, Sasha’s eight-year-old cousin. A light bulb burned out in the house on the second floor. In the evening, in the semi-darkness, I sorted out the laundry, who should lay what, and chatted with Andreika, who got up after me. Or rather, I spoke, but he didn’t answer, he just smiled slyly and silently walked back and forth. As it turned out later, all this time my cousin was communicating downstairs with his aunt, my mother-in-law.

But it was not without reason that the brownie’s face was so cunning - after all, he turned out to be right.
Well, and the bathhouse... It hasn’t gone anywhere and hasn’t lost its sweetness. One of the joys of a difficult married life.