/ world today news/ Several neat residential blocks had imperceptibly outlined a wonderful place to live on “Tintyava” Street. Of course, the settlers were only rich people from the category that defined itself as “businessmen”. These people did not like to talk about their “business”, clearly why.
Grozdyo Ivanov was one of them – he bought (some of his fellow businessmen claimed that he grabbed it) a luxurious apartment and lived in it as it should be – with the servants, with the bodyguard…
Everything was wonderful, when one day, while Grozdyo was drinking his mastic, he saw something that surprised him and then angered him.
He called the servant and asked:
– Oh, tell me, what is that thing down there, next to the garbage containers?!
“A bum, sir…” said the servant.
– Get down and tell him to leave!
The servant immediately ran to carry out the order. Grozdyo saw from the terrace how he approached the bum, and he reacted only verbally.
The servant came back saying:
– It won’t go away, that’s what he said.
Just then, a dog rushed to the garbage can and the bum clung to it. The result of the fight was that the dog retreated squealing.
– You see, he was like a gladiator, huh! – grinned Grozdyo – he had recently learned this word from some guy, a former archaeologist, current driver of his personal car, who explained to him that many centuries ago, during the Roman Empire, in this very place, in ancient Serdika and today’s Sofia , where the neat apartment blocks now stood, there was an arena and gladiators fought on it.
– I will see his bill and how! Grozdyo threatened and the mastic carried him away.
As soon as he uttered that phrase, whoever annoyed or angered him would always disappear from this world, it was an essential part of his business – to get in the way. And in order not to have to go to investigators and courts, he bought them and they ensured him complete impunity.
After all, this was a common rule in this suffering Eastern European country – every businessman carried on his back as many policemen, judges and deputies as he could pay…
Several weeks passed in which the tramp fought with the stray dogs and chased them away. This bum, like most in Sofia, was overflowing with knowledge – he had two higher educations and spoke brilliantly six languages. During those days, the retired professor Ivan Kardamov was a happy man – the food was plentiful and varied!
Until one Saturday afternoon the same servant who had come to him to convey to him Grozdyo’s desire to leave came out of the entrance carrying a tray of fried livers.
The servant walked slowly towards the container.
The bum asked:
– Are you going to throw them?
– Yes, answered the servant, but offered: – If you want me to leave them with you, along with the tray that I was told to throw away as well.
“Come on, man,” grinned the bum.
The servant placed the tray next to the tramp and walked back.
The bum was watching the still quietly smoldering lungs and didn’t notice the dog darting towards him. This dog was not a stray, but a guard pit bull.
Well, it hadn’t been fed in a few days while it was locked in the Grape Cellar, and now it was ready to tear apart anyone who got in the way of its fragrant food.
The bum put up a fight, but the fight was doomed, and he quickly realized it.
Soon the bum was torn apart, cheers and laughter erupted from Grozdyo’s terrace.
– A real gladiator, eh?.. – grinned Grozdyo.
– The gladiator on “Tintyava” street, eh?.. – one of the guests giggled.
Thus another gladiator died, and the patricians feast to this day…
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* Story by Stoyan Valev
#Gladiator #Sofias #Tintyava #Street
