How can there be anything worthwhile in Petushki?
"There can be", I say to you, and I'll say it so loud that Moscow and Petushki will tremble. Moscow, no, that couldn't happen with Moscow, but with Petushki it could. And what if she is a bitch? If you want to know where I dug her up, if you're interested, just listen, since you're so shameless, I'll tell you the whole story.
"As I told you before, in Petushki the jasmine never stops blooming and the birds always sing, so, exactly ten weeks ago today, the birds were singing and the jasmine was blooming. And it was also the birthday of someone or other. In addition, there was an endless stream of liquor, ten bottles or twelve or twenty-five. And there was anything anyone could whish for, from beer on tap to bottled stuff."
"And what else?" you ask, "and what else?"