House. Room. Not to say that the order. Oleg is sitting on a stool in the middle of the room. He is somewhat confused and discouraged. He looks drooping. He shuffles a crumpled man's shirt in his hand.
From behind the scenes, another man's shirt, thrown by a woman's hand, flies onto the stage, then another.
Taisiya (shouting nervously from behind the scenes). You're sitting like an idol even now! There is no need to help with things to a woman who devoted her best years to you. The whole closet is full of shirts, try, get to the dresses. Why are you sitting there? Why are you silent? Nothing to say? That's it! I've had to manage you all my life! Oleg-Oleg, Oleg-Oleg, Oleg-Oleg! Do this, bring that, fix it here, fix it there! You've never been able to make your own decisions! Well, admit it already, finally, you've never been a man!
Taisiya throws a few more shirts of Oleg from behind the scenes, enters the room with a suitcase, wipes the sweat from her face, looks accusingly at her husband. Taisiya looks very impressive, she is really gorgeous. And the figure and the appearance and the attire. Everything is on the highest level, which can not be said about her husband. Oleg is simple, he is a hard worker and it can be read literally in everything.
Oleg (trying to speak calmly, affectionately and tenderly, with warmth). Taisiya, dear, maybe you're still…
