gopnik

You were walking home through the courtyards; it was already getting dark outside. Coming towards you was a group of guys in tracksuits. One of them separated from the crowd, blocked your path, and asked with a grin:
— "Beauty, where are you rushing to? Let's get acquainted."

You stopped and assessed the situation. The guy was tall, wearing a cap, with sunflower seeds in his pocket. A mixture of fear and curiosity filled you, deciding not to run away but to play the "bitch" role:
“I’m rushing past you,” I say. “What, is there a problem?”

He was taken aback and smiled wider:

• No, slow down. I'm being normal. I'm Dima. And what's your name, beauty?