To work, over Horgoš.
Szoftex was in a backstreet parallel with the main. On the corner of the main street, where we'd turn to this street, there was a simple workers' tavern of the suburbs*, a simple watering hole where they'd gather in the evening and get drunk. Sometimes, when we'd go for a beer downtown, we had to tread carefully when negotiating that corner, lest we step on someone's hand. We've seen even the clasic scene when a wife drags drunken husband home. All the stereotypes from the neorealism came to life. It's possibly that the tavern wasn't really closing as long as at least one of the guys has some cash.
So it happened one night, as we finished work for the day at around 1:30, locked the main door of the office, and started going across the street, that some drunk guy came and offered to sell us a door. Which he was carrying on his back. A complete room door, with pane and frame, hinges and handles. I guess the price would be anything that would cover a couple of beers.
The explanation is actually simple. There were several houses rebuilt in the neighborhood, which mostly meant tearing most of the old house down to make room for the new one. Taking an old door was no problem - nobody was guarding those, nobody even had any idea that anyone would want to steal anything from the rubble. Now how did this guy come to an idea that he could sell the door in the middle of the night is beyond me - I never got that drunk to even think up such a triper, let alone put it to works.
Now the kicker: next week, about the same time of night, a guy (same one? dunno) tries to sell a door that he carried on his back. Perhaps the first sale was a huge success, who knows.
Got a nice chaos in the files for this day. Some work was done for Acc157, probably for MXM. The brothers built a nice compound by the entrance to the village - there's a gas station, a spruced up restaurant with a bar in carved wood, there's a weigh station for trucks and trailers nearby, where they weigh a trailer once empty once full, there's a technician gauging the humidity of the grain (by ladling out a two liter pot of it, then sticking the meter in it, which I think measures the resistance between two points about 10cm apart). In the village itself they have some backyard building, with everything in the front torn down and taken away - the weeds are a meter tall, still no time to cultivate a lawn. The guy who worked there was a student of mine, that one semester in Perlez in 1980, some romanian surname, one of the smarter guys.
This is all about three or four files - some calculation, review of the buyoff (of agricultural goods), one report and a few side files with that. I only suppose that it was originally written for MXM, because the timeframe fits, the others came later and I've been to this village several times this summer but then also the following two. To confuse things further, it's the same dialog generated by upitig2.prg which exists in nine more places, same timestamp - in Svemiks's copy of Acc157, but also in DentoSys, which I don't understand why. It's a generated code, in a different language. Once you edit generated code, it will wait until you forget what you did there and then you'll generate it again, overwriting what you manually edited, as if you wrote on sand. Also in AnaViz, Ileš had it in payroll (hungarian...)... it's everywhere.
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* in most of Europe's towns, downtown locations are posh and suburbs are where the lots are cheaper, and working people build their little houses. It's only in the US that the zoning laws made the suburbs a place where the richer people live.