– “Can you believe it?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in despair. “It’s not here…”
Meanwhile, he was climbing the stairs to his fourth-floor apartment. Spotting the attractive and seemingly lonely woman by the closed door, he felt compelled to approach her, like a true gentleman.
– “Excuse me, is everything alright?” He gave a slight bow. “I’m Grigory Petrovich, your neighbor.”
– “Maria Ivanovna,” she replied quietly, not looking up. “I’ve lost…” she awkwardly trailed off, her beautiful face looking childishly helpless. “I’ve misplaced my key…”
– “I happen to have a few old ones lying around. You know, there’s this custom… to collect junk,” Grigory Petrovich shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “If you don’t mind, I could…”
She glanced at him with a hint of amusement.
– “Well, give it a try…”
Grigory Petrovich stepped onto the stairs and hesitated.
– “I’m sorry, it must be uncomfortable for you to stand out here at this hour. May I… um… invite you for a cup of coffee? Also, could you tell me what shape the key is?”
Maria Ivanovna agreed but warned, “Just for a minute.”
They ascended to the fourth floor.
– “Do you have a one-bedroom?” Maria Ivanovna asked as she crossed the threshold.
– “Are you single?”
– “Single,” Grigory Petrovich helped her take off her coat. “And you?”
– “Me too…” she sighed.
– “Come in… I’ll make some coffee.”
As she flipped through a book, Maria Ivanovna mentioned her situation three times: “For happiness… For happiness… To happiness…” because in the kitchen, there was a clattering sound—plates and cups seemed to be falling.
– “Oh, these men!” Maria Ivanovna couldn’t take it anymore and headed to the kitchen. “Goodness! Did a battle break out here with a ceramic dragon?”
– “You see…” Grigory Petrovich was completely flustered, “it’s not dishes, but some flying saucers…”
Then they sat down to drink coffee and chatted like old friends. It turned out that Maria Ivanovna was a teacher, her first marriage had been unhappy, and she had been single for three years. Grigory Petrovich revealed that he was a senior engineer at a research institute and had also experienced a failed marriage, making him a bachelor as well. They both realized they had lived in the same building for three years.
– “Incredible,” Grigory Petrovich couldn’t comprehend. “Three years and we didn’t know each other.”
– “It’s just amazing,” she agreed.
Later, it came to light that Grigory Petrovich had known Maria Ivanovna for those three years, but “in a one-sided way.”
However, after a moment of hesitation, Maria Ivanovna confessed that she had known Grigory Petrovich all along.
– “But we weren’t officially acquainted; I hadn’t lost my key before…”
Grigory Petrovich suddenly remembered.
– “I’m sorry, I promised… Just a moment…”
He dashed to the balcony and returned with a small box, placing it in the middle of the room and began sorting through various bits of metal. From time to time, he asked:
– “Not this one? Maybe this will work, Maria Ivanovna?”
She smiled with her eyes but shook her head negatively.
– “No, that won’t do. Keep looking, Grigory Petrovich. They say those who seek will always find. And please hurry. The first episode of ‘The Irony of Fate, or Enjoy Your Bath’ starts in fifteen minutes.”
Without further ado, Grigory Petrovich turned on the TV, and Maria Ivanovna clapped her hands.
– “Oh, how well it works for you—must be the magic of a man’s touch. Mine either has a double-voiced announcer or the picture jumps around.”
They watched the first episode of ‘The Irony of Fate…’ and laughed. As the hero and heroine on screen sipped champagne, Grigory Petrovich pulled out a bottle too.
– “I drink to you, Marinka… I mean, Maria Ivanovna,” he raised his glass, “may your… I mean, your key be found.”
But then the second episode ended. Grigory Petrovich knelt by the box on one side, while Maria Ivanovna knelt on the other.
Finally, the key was found.
In fact, it was a month later.
And—can you believe it?—it was on the very day when Grigory Petrovich and Maria Ivanovna, happy and triumphant, returned from the registry office.
Where do you think the key was? In Maria Ivanovna’s handbag.
How inattentive these women can be…