Incident in the cafeteria
She was clearing the dishes in the dining room,
In a clean apron, a headscarf down to her eyes.
And to her, pardon me, a brazen scoundrel
Took to visiting often—a bastard, a swine.
He convinced her that she was a queen,
In a white robe—a surgeon with a degree.
While he himself noted the staff hadn't eaten,
The sky had never seen such a greedy thief.
He taught her to steal leftovers,
For this, he sewed cellophane under her robe.
Made her take toothpicks, napkins,
To snatch a decanter and glass from the bar.
She obeyed listlessly, without protest,
Did everything precisely as he said.
Took a colander, a tablecloth from the back room,
But that wasn't enough, he asked for more!
Dishes partly vanished from the hall,
The decor grew poorer, the ambiance more modest,
And he—an insatiable, mocking Judas,
It seems the brazen one hadn't even hit his stride.
An audit, discovering the shortage,
Found a sewn-on bag under her robe.
In it were three spoons, a paltry haul,
A ladle, two saucers, leftover cutlets.
While she's being treated in a hospital ward
For nervous stress and ringing in her ears,
He with great fanfare opened a restaurant on Arbat,
(It was founded on the canteen's things).
Don't believe, girls, the slick profiteers.
A hustler knows nothing of tenderness and passion.
The scoundrel pretends to be ardently in love,
Gaping like a whale with an insatiable maw.