“...I stopped in front of the sparkling doors of the beauty salon, stomped around a little, pulled the door towards me, read the inscription “from myself”, pushed the door and found myself inside. Luxury and fragrance reigned everywhere. The walls shimmered with the color of dull silver, mysterious reflections floated in the mirrors framed with gilded carvings, crystal chandeliers streamed a muted mysterious light. Flirty nymphs in white fluttered around this palace. Behind the receptionist's desk, which looked more like Queen Nefertiti's chariot, stood proudly a girl of impeccable shape and size, high-quality dyed platinum blonde. The girl looked at me with regal irony, not without, however, some benevolence. “I’m listening to you, young man,” said Nefertiti from her chariot...”