Shoulders on the track today. Shoulder girdle: why you can not sympathize with Russian truckers. Communication with colleagues

The car skidded on the turn so that it screeched its brakes terribly, with a squeal and a roar flew into a ditch, almost overturning.
- Here, bitch, almost caused an accident because of her! - the driver of a foreign car shouted in fright and surprise, clutching the steering wheel with whitened fingers.
- Yes, you do not drive jitters, calm down. Everything is fine, they are alive, and the car is intact, why are you freaking out? - I said from the back seat, hitting my shoulder hard on the ledge.
- Not x ... I give you! Nothing! Because of which? Because of some slut! Shurka, the driver of the car, fumed.
- Yes, what's the matter, explain plainly - I did not understand. - What kind of slut, what are you? Shurik didn’t fit into the turn, and are you looking for the culprit?
- What turn. She, bitch, rushed right under the wheels ...
- Where is she?
- I know. Maybe it's in the bushes.
Shurka and I jumped out of the car. God forbid they really shot down ...
- And here she is! - Shurik yelled and with a swing hit some girl in the face, barely standing on her feet, a little behind the car.
The girl collapsed to the ground.
- What are you, Sasha, stop it! What are you fighting? I shouted, quickly running up to Shurik. - Still, God forbid, with anger you will start kicking with your feet. I can't stand it when women are beaten, whether they are right or wrong, I don't care. "You can't beat them" was my rule. Shurik really intended to continue the execution, jumping up to the woman who had fallen face down. I barely had time to grab his hand.
- Stop, I say, but not that! - and I showed my fist. - Between the eyes I will light up so much that it will be very painful!
Shurik retreated.
- That's because, bastard, almost sent to the next world, but is touched, as if nothing had happened!
- Okay, now we'll figure it out.
I walked up to the woman and touched her shoulder.
- Get up, no one will touch you, I promise.
The woman continued to lie. Only a rare twitch of her shoulders indicated that she was crying or laughing. Maybe some kind of psychic, or a drug addict, now a lot of all sorts of divorced ...
- Get up, get up, - I already grabbed the edge of a long cloak and began to lift the woman. Don't be afraid, Shurik won't touch you anymore. Really, Shurik? he asked the driver, who had stepped away gradually.
- Yes, well, her ... - Shurik cursed dirty again.
- You heard it? All, I'm sorry, let's get up.
The woman finally began to calm down and raised her head. And then I froze. In front of me was a girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, quite a teenager, with still plump lips and a red trickle of blood on the edge of her mouth. But the childish gray eyes looked so sad and angry that I felt uneasy.
- Shurik, it's a girl!
- Girl! I know these girls. **** roadside, not a girl. Shoulder, no doubt.
- Didn't understand who? I asked.
- Shoulder. Wow! Prostitutes are so called that they trade with truckers. After fucking, they fall asleep on their shoulders, and they go all the way - they drove and the girl on their shoulders. Scream!
Shurik came closer, looked at the girl and blinked wildly.
- You, you, you ... - Shurka gasped from the spoken words. - Yes, this is Katyukha, - Shurik babbled, still not believing his own eyes.
- Do you know her? - even more Shurik, I was surprised.
Shurik fell silent, not knowing what to answer. He was silent for a minute, then shouted angrily:
- Katyukha, my cousin, Yura's uncles, daughter.
- What uncle Yura? I didn't understand.
- Yes, the son of grandfather Stepan. Uncle Yura is in prison now, and this is his daughter.
I silently looked at the girl. “But she’s beautiful, and somehow looks like Stepan’s grandfather,” I noted to myself.
“How did you get here,” Shurik yelled again, coming to his senses. What are you doing here on the track? I almost hit you! Why did you throw yourself under the wheels, you fool?
Katya was silent. She wiped her face with a handkerchief, got up, shook off her long and dirty cloak, found a mirror, and began to preen herself, as if nothing of the kind had happened.
- Will you answer me, or do you want to get hit in the face again? Shurik shouted again, running up to the girl from behind.
I managed to intercept the hand brought by Shurik.
- Everything, Shurik, everything, that's it. Don't you dare, you understand? Go ahead, start the car, we'll leave now.
Shurka went to the car, walked around and sat behind the wheel, began to start.
Katyusha put herself in order, and even summed up her plump lips with bright red lipstick.
I chuckled to myself as I watched this teenage woman. The profession leaves its mark - the face must be attractive. This is the first commandment of any prostitute, the rest is secondary. “Well, the mind is in last place,” the priestesses of love themselves like to joke.
It seemed to me completely unnatural that this very young girl became a professional venal love. “Looks like the second Sonechka Marmeladova,” - for some reason this comparison came to mind. “Lord, Russia, you, Russia! Why don’t you take care of your daughters, sending them on the high road to trade themselves? But my thoughts were interrupted by Shurik:
- Come on, help me, I can't go to the track alone.
I approached and, making an effort, helped the car to drive onto the asphalt.
- Here, order. Well, are you with us or will you stay to work? Shurik shouted to Katyukha, who was standing on the sidelines and watching our fuss.
“No, I want to go home,” she said softly, barely audible.
“She wants to go home…” Shurik muttered. - Come on, sit down, I'll take you to Aunt Natasha. Let her walk away on your ass with a broom so that she doesn’t hang out with anyone. Go, sit down, - Shurik commanded.
Katyusha obediently approached the car:
- Where does he sit down?
- In the front seat, where your girlfriends always sit, - Shurik quipped.
Katyusha, without saying a word, got into the front seat. I, with my heavy and overweight figure, climbed back into the back seat.
“Well, touch it, Shurik, just keep your eyes peeled, otherwise you’ll run into some one again,” I was joking.
- Ugh, ugh, to hell, - Shurik spat over his left shoulder and crossed himself. - Save and save, Saint Nicholas the Pleasant. It was he who saved me today, - Shurik said, pointing to the icon attached to the dashboard next to the steering wheel.
“Trust in God, but don’t make a mistake yourself,” I answered more by inertia than with meaning, solving a difficult task in my mind at that time: how to help the granddaughter, the deceased grandfather Stepan?
- Listen, Katerina, tell us how you got to such a life? I decided to take the bull by the horns.
It is known that girls of easy virtue easily split when under anesthesia with booze or smoking dope. Katerina did not smell of alcohol, which means the second. Inadequate behavior on the track just does not occur. And I was not mistaken.
- And what to tell something? Everything is like everyone else. My father was imprisoned when I was six years old, I never saw him again. Mom began to drink, she began to beat me and two brothers. Those younger ones, so there are fewer of them, she took out all the evil on me, and beat me with anything. Here, there is a mark on the head for life, - and Katyusha, lifting her hair, showed a deep scar on her left temple. - Mommy hit her chair so hard that they pumped me out in the hospital. She was imprisoned for three years, and we were assigned to an orphanage. It would be better if Grandfather and Grandmother Klava were taken, but they weren’t given to them – they were old. The brothers were taken to one orphanage, and I was taken to another, there were no places in that one. And there the orders are such that they either steal or become bandits ... Guys who go where, many are on the run, but I have nowhere to go. She endured as long as she could. And then, our supply manager, Sidorych, assigned all the older girls to engage in prostitution. The boarding house stood on the outskirts of the city, the peasants, especially the elderly and chocks, fell in a shaft. They fucked the girls, and gave the money to Sidorych. When I was ten, Sidorych called me to his office, pulled up my skirt and left ... right on the couch. She says - that's it, the girl has matured, go to work ... She cried, asked Sidorych not to send me to the peasants. And he - no, they say, how will you work. “What will I give you to drink, feed you?” She went and complained to the headmistress Nelli Rakhmanovna, she said: “This cannot be. Sidor Terentyevich is a modest person, you slander him. And put it out the door. What was left for me? She began to spread her legs like everyone else. All night, sometimes without a break. Especially after pay, they will fly like flies on honey ... Ugh! Katerina spat savoryly at her feet. - Listen, give me a smoke!
Shurik, stunned by his sister's story, was silent, not knowing what to say, and whether to believe Katerina. I also sat. Anger streaked across my face. I wanted to go immediately and punch that son of a bitch, Sidorych, in the face so that he would wash himself with his own blood. I took out a cigarette and handed it to Katerina. She flicked on the lighter, lit a cigarette, took a few deep puffs, and began blowing smoke rings. After enjoying her cigarette, she continued:
- I ran away, wandered around the stations, stole ... Sometimes, if I was lucky, the traders from the stalls gave me some work - tomatoes or something else to sort out. You earn a hundred rubles - you feel happy! I'll buy a bun with marmalade, tea with sugar, and still have some left over for ice cream... Kaif! The men pestered, but not like in a boarding school, there is chaos. And here it is: I want ladies, I want no. Rarely has anyone been raped. But the cops got it. One Armenian man, who kept me in a stall, hid me from them twice. Then he says: “That's it, go away, what do you care? You are a minor. And they can get me." I left. And where to? I got on the track to go to my grandfather and grandmother. Basement nationalists on a foreign car. "Let's go, beauty, ride?" Let's go, they took me to the south, they raped me with a whole gang, I almost died. She ran away, ended up in Rostov, where she turned over the winter, and moved home. I found out that grandfather Stepan had died, and grandmother Klava, moreover, went nuts on this basis. I went to my mother Natasha. She was already out of prison, she took up her own again, drinking and walking. Gone old, like a witch has become, no teeth, but give me booze and grub. But I feel sorry for her, mother all the same ... - the girl, having smoked her cigarette, nervously crumpled the cigarette butt in her fingers. - So I went back to the track. I earn money, this is what my mother and I live on.
- What happened today? I asked as calmly as possible.
- What about today? The same as yesterday and the day before yesterday. She came to St. Petersburg, worked successfully, took more than three thousand. On the way back, a black man dropped by in a jeep and offered five pieces. Well, I guess I'll take the risk. Five thousand is a lot of money, I’ll rest at home for a week or two. Agreed. And he, a freak, gave cigarettes with dope. I worked and became prettier so that I did not understand where and what. He threw me out here, at the fork, without paying ... And here you are. I wanted to stop the car, so I stepped onto the asphalt. I felt that it was not necessary, but not to stop, my legs carried themselves. The head is plague, a push, I fly into the bushes, the car into the pit, Shurka comes out and slaps me in the face ... That's all.
- N-yes ... - not knowing what to say, I mumbled.
Finally, Shurik came to his senses:
- Tomorrow I'm going to your boarding school, I'll file a lawsuit against all this bastard. Let them judge. Just don't drift when called. You need witnesses, you understand?
Katyusha smiled.
- You're not the first. Everything was bought from them there, and the cops, and the courts, and the authorities ...
- And we'll see about that, - Shurik did not let up. “Really, Sergeich?”
- That's for sure, Shurik, we will still fight for the guys ...
- It's you, Katyukha, don't go to Aunt Natasha yet. Live with us, - continued Shurik. - There will be enough space in the hut, you will help your mother around the house.
Katerina again silently smiled and nodded her head: she habitually did not object, but she knew that she would not go to Shurka's mother, Aunt Nastya. She guessed what the relative was doing, and more than once shamed her. Yes, I feel sorry for the mother. Who will need her, dear blood? Lost without her. No, she won't, for sure.
I guessed what Katerina was smiling at, and silently listened to Shurik's heated speeches, thinking about how to really help the girl.
We arrived in Fedulovo in the late afternoon. We stopped near Shurik's house:
- Will I take you, Sergeich?
- No, I'll go myself. Thank you, Sasha, - I held out my hand to him. - Helped out while my horse was repaired.
- And where are you going? Shurik shouted, seeing that Katyusha quickly walked away from us.
She waved her hand, saying that everything will be fine, and her thin childish figure in a ridiculous long cloak disappeared into the evening air.
- Here, fool! Shura scolded. - Okay, I'll go to Aunt Natasha, I'll figure it out, - he promised me goodbye.
I tried to arrange the fate of Katyusha. I found a job for her in the city, rented a small apartment, began to seek the restoration of her rights, going through the authorities every day. One fine day, Katyusha called me on my mobile phone.
- Uncle Kolya, thank you for everything, but I don’t want to be a burden, and I don’t believe in justice. Farewell ... - and turned off the phone.
A year and a half later, at the entrance to Moscow, in Khimki, a pretty, well-dressed girl in a short skirt, black glasses, with brightly painted full lips stopped the car.
- Do you want to give the girl a ride, uncle?
The voice sounded very familiar to me.
- Katerina, you?
The girl jumped away from the door.
- Uncle Kolya!..
- Listen, Katerina, I was looking for you. Why did you leave? I started. - Sit down, everything will be fine now, I promise you ...
But the girl shook her head.
- Sorry, you misunderstood. I'm not Katerina, I'm Dina. Sorry, - she slammed the car door and walked away ...
I did not know what to do, jumped out, caught up with her.
- Listen, take some money. Here, here I have ten thousand cash, no more. ..Let's go home, Katerina, wife, son remember and wait for you. I speak true!
I began to thrust money into the girl's hand, but she waved it away and, crying, rushed to run.
And for a long time a dark red jeep with flashing lights on stood on the side of the road, and a handsome man walked and smoked nearby, waving his arms, as if talking to himself. An avalanche of cars with indifferent people rushed past, occasionally honking when a man ran out onto the asphalt, not knowing why ...

It has been standing on the Grodno-Baranovichi highway (in the Zelva region) for so long that the locals mistake it for a road post. Of course, Tatyana wants to become something more than a street prostitute, but, she says, feelings of fatigue and hopelessness interfere. Weakness. And a society that likes to hide from people like her.

A worker in the "service sector" on the highway Zelva - Slonim Tatyana

Now Tatyana* 39. Twenty of them she is in the service industry. A trucker doll, if you will. Although it is difficult to call road prostitutes “dolls”. As a rule, they do not shine with beauty. Most often these are unwashed, drunken women. Their faces are sad, and there are more scars on their bodies than a combat officer of the SAS. Every morning she leaves her house in the agricultural town of the Zelvensky district, takes a ride and drives to Zelva. Its working platform is the P99 highway.

— Everything is simple. I stop the car. Please give me a lift to Slonim. I rate the driver. I ask the question: “Do you want to rest?” An hour of traditional sex costs 300 thousand rubles. Additional services - 400-500 thousand, but I rarely provide these services. A working day brings about 10-15 USD. It's minimum.

I remember once I earned 780 euros in half an hour. But it happens that you can barely scrape together 50 thousand rubles. Income(laughs) I do not cry: there is no one. If they could give me a checking account, I would be happy to. There are discounts, but only for regular customers. Clients are mostly Belarusians. On passenger cars. Polish and Russian truckers also stop, but less frequently. The most depraved are the inhabitants of Poland, sometimes their sexual fantasies go beyond the reasonable. Although there are often individuals among Belarusians. From the innocent: "Take off your clothes and dance while I drive"- says Tatyana.

Now she works only for herself. And only in the direction of Slonim. In the direction of Volkovysk - 6-8 prostitutes per kilometer, competition. Yes, and the local police are no longer particularly touching. Unless sometimes a civilian will drive up in a passenger car and ask: “Are you working?” He pokes a certificate in the face and draws up a protocol. For the lack of flicker on the sleeve.

How would you survive?

Everything went wrong for Tatyana since childhood. Born in the village of Kovalevshchina (Logoisk district, Minsk region). She studied well at school and was even the chairman of the pioneer squad. But things didn’t work out in the family: his own father drank and left his family. Mom died when Tatyana was 9 years old. Stepfather raped. Next is the boarding school. She worked on collective farms from the age of 14. At 15 she got a job at a match factory in Borisov. Lived in a hostel. Vasily, a citizen of the Russian Federation from the city of Karachev, Bryansk Region, served nearby. A casual acquaintance, pregnancy, moving to Russia is the traditional path of a child from a dysfunctional family who independently seeks well-being.

In 1992, in Karachev, Tatyana received a passport (at that time, residents of Russia were still issued Soviet-style documents) and registered with Vasily. A son was born, who became the "reason" for marriage. There was no love anymore, because the husband cheated. And like any forced marriage, Tatiana's marriage turned out to be short-lived. The family only existed for a year.

— Divorce forced me to return to Belarus. I left my husband's house. She left him a son. It can be said that I abandoned the child, but in Russia my husband had a roof over his head and a job. I just wanted my son to have at least some sort of arrangement. Because she herself was returning to the unknown, albeit to her homeland. I decided to go to my sister, who lives near Molodechno. But I didn’t know how she would accept me and whether she would accept me at all ... I went from Russia to Belarus alone, in winter, hitchhiking.

Best deal

On the Moscow-Brest highway, Tatyana is picked up by a truck. There are two drivers and a teenage girl in the cab. Her name is Natalya, two years younger than Tatyana, but she feels quite comfortable in the company of adult men. She is from Slonim. Having learned about the problems of our heroine, Natalya invites her to work with her on the track. The incentive is her apartment in Slonim. A warm corner was at that time the most important desire in Tatyana's life, and she agreed. But quickly regretted...

— My new friend gave me a place to live, but demanded too much in return. I was looking for clients on the track on my own, she took the proceeds. My friend drank heavily. There was no other way but to leave her...

For a long time, Tatyana lived wherever she could, doing odd jobs, including street prostitution. A street prostitute, as you know, is always accompanied by a swarm of serious diseases. Tatyana was no exception. Pleurisy of the lungs, tuberculosis, multiple hematomas on the head and on the body, deafness ... Only on one arm from the wrist to the elbow there are 38 stitches: the hallmarks of a lost person whose thought “I cannot change my world, therefore I am changing it to another” is already becoming motto. The peak of moral decay - addiction to alcohol, physical - cirrhosis of the liver. The legs are lifted. And in the wanderings, the passport of the USSR was lost.

During this minor period, at the bus stop, Tatyana meets Alexander, who lives in one of the agricultural towns in the Zelvensky district. The girl goes to him. Because there is nowhere else to go.

I would like to be a human...

— Now I live with Sasha on bird's rights. He is interrupted by occasional and rare earnings, and my track is a constant source of income. In fact, I have been trying to quit prostitution for a long time. Now more than ever I need independence, I want to get a normal job on the same collective farm, get my own corner and become a full-fledged member of society. But they don't take me anywhere. I do not have a passport of a citizen of Belarus, which I am, and the Soviet passport is lost. Of all the documents on hand - a birth certificate, a marriage certificate and a certificate of employment at a match factory in Borisov.

For a long time I have been trying to get a passport for myself, but local services do not want to deal with my problem, since they generally consider me a Russian citizen. Because in 1992 I was married to a citizen of the Russian Federation and registered in the Bryansk region. In Russia, where they send me, I am nobody. I lived there for only a year, I was discharged and have no reason to obtain a Russian passport. But I don't need him. I'm Belorussian. But the Belarusian services are of little interest in this: from Slonim they are sent to their place of residence, to Zelva. From Zelva back to Slonim. And so in a circle. They would give at least some kind of temporary identity card, according to which it would be possible to get a job.

In a confidential conversation, the police officers told us:

— The woman has problems not only with her passport, but also with alcohol. Both the authorities and ordinary residents of the agricultural town where she now lives tried to help her. They got a job at a local factory. But for a long time she did not last there precisely for this reason. The police no longer touch her only out of pity, she is very ill. Otherwise, they would have been hidden in LTP for a long time and for a long time. Now, first of all, she needs to stop drinking, get medical treatment and restore her passport. She has money for this, she earns not only by prostitution. According to the decision of the court, which at one time recognized her as a victim of the actions of pimps, the Red Cross pays her an allowance. Do you want to become a full member of society? Much, if not all, depends on her.

Head of the Department for Migration and Citizenship of the Logoisk District Department of Internal Affairs of the Minsk Region Alexander Germanov:

— She was born and raised in the Logoisk region. Let him collect all the documents that he has on hand: a birth certificate, a certificate of education, divorce, certificates from the place of work, and go to our department. We will try to help her.

*The name of the main character has been changed for ethical reasons.

Next, you will find a story about the life and work of road prostitutes working on the M1 highway. One of the priestesses of love spoke about all the intricacies of her profession, about what made her do it, and, of course, about her earnings.

On one of the “long” weekends in May, roadside girls chose the M1 highway, popularly referred to as the “Olympic”. This transit highway - part of the European route E30, passes through Belarus from Poland to Russia. In addition to Belarusians, foreigners drive here: truckers, business people, tourists. And no matter which way you go from the capital along the M1, women are standing near gas stations and cafes.

40 kilometers from the capital, on both sides of the road, near two roadside cafes with large parking lots, truckers “defend”. We were ready to wait for the evening, assuming that girls offer intimate pleasures to clients under the cover of darkness, but ...

What are you, they work here in the morning, without weekends, checkpoints! - laughed the Russian driver of the heavy truck, with whom we managed to talk. - Look, there is a girl on the other side of the road.

Women standing on the sidelines waiting for customers are frankly bored, so they agree to tell about themselves - only so that their faces are not shown, "so that children and acquaintances do not know what we are doing."

I'm a drunkard, so I'm standing here, - the tipsy blonde Nadia declares, crunching chips. With these words, the woman waved her hand, turned around and walked towards the parking lot. We learn from her friend that Nadya not only loves to drink, but also indulges in drugs, “and owes money to everyone in the world,” so she agrees to everything that the client offers her.

What else is left? I am from a small town, there is no work, and if there is, then the salary is small, but I need to support myself and the children. I have two of them - 14 and 17 years old. Alimony for two from the former - one and a half million. Moreover, you have to pay for a rented apartment, - a woman who called herself Maya confesses. - I am 39 years old, I have a higher education, I have held positions for many years, but I had to come here. If I had been told earlier that I would be prostituting… Aw.

According to Maya, she was scared to go out on the track for the first time. But, she says, she was lucky: the first two clients were adequate men who paid 700 thousand rubles for an hour of work, then the work went well.

Now I go out when I need to. I take breaks to rest whenever I feel like it. Sometimes I take a vacation. I don’t go to foreign lands to rest, I prefer Odessa.

For a road prostitute, Maya looks good: with a manicure and pedicure, a neat haircut, silver jewelry on her neck and arms. Only clothes hint at a profession: a T-shirt with a deep neckline, short shorts and shoes with a flirty bow, high heels.

Some look worse, some look better. Everything depends on the woman. Those who have been working for a long time take less care of themselves. I also take care of myself, and the diet, nutrition, because I have an incentive and a desire to work. My clients are quite wealthy people, so my appearance should be appropriate. Someone who wants to, brings spare clothes and several pairs of shoes with him - often the legs get tired, you can change shoes, so that the heel is lower.

Maya says that among the clients there are most of all “long-distance fighters”: Belarusians, Poles, Russians, Lithuanians, and come across in cars. And customers have different cars - from ancient Volkswagen Passats to new polished BMWs.

Service - in the cab or inside the car. With a trucker - in the parking lot, in a passenger car we drive off into the forest. If the car is “rich”, this does not mean that you will take more money from the client - on the contrary, they are clamping down, demanding a discount. Very greedy Russians and Poles, someone even asks for change. And somehow I drove off with one into the forest, everything ended quickly for him, so he tells me: “Well, wow, you earn money - in just 2 minutes, one and a half thousand [Russian] rubles!”.

From the fact that guests from Russia came to the country for the May holidays, the girls, they say, are neither hot nor cold: there is no profit.

What's the use of them - out, rushing past, - Maya waved after the cars with Russian numbers. - There are good truckers, but now it has become difficult for them to work - strictly for every euro they have to report according to the documents. I know, because many drivers pour out their souls to us, especially older people. They complain that it is hard for them to work, they pour out all their negativity on us. Have to listen.

However, despite the financial difficulties of clients, the woman is convinced that prostitution will always exist: "As long as there are men, this work will continue."

You know, this money is very easy, - Maya quickly switched to “you”. - Well, morally, maybe a little hard, but then you get used to it. It's very hard to get out of here. First, the clientele is developed. If you have served well, they ask for a phone number, and then they call, come, pay good money. Get used to big money. But as they come, so quickly they leave.

Maya does not undertake to single out any one type or age category of men who use the services of girls.

Men are different, from 20 to 50 years. Of course, there are older ones, but this is rare. There are clients with interesting deviations or special desires. In general, you can earn a lot if you really work for days. I'll tell you that I usually get 20 million a month. They pay in Russian rubles, and in dollars, and in euros, but you don’t need hryvnias, - the woman laughs. - Now there is enough earnings, and if I worked at the factory, then there would be money - only to rent an apartment and pay utilities, for everything else there would be a million and a half. It's impossible to live on that kind of money. But I don’t call anyone to the track: such work is out of desperation.

The cost of services of all road prostitutes is approximately the same: for oral sex - from 15 to 20 dollars, traditional - from 25 to 50 dollars.

Of course, the prices are very flexible, and we can make a discount. For example, if the client immediately wants the complex. Someone prefers anal sex - about the same cost as for regular sex, although, looking at a specific person, I can throw a little.

While we are talking, cars periodically slow down nearby - drivers are interested in the cost of services. Maya bends down so that the man can look into the deep neckline, and voices the prices: "350 thousand - yelled, 500 - sex."

Why so expensive? Come on 200! - the driver is traded. Maya disagrees and the car drives off.

I will not work for 200 thousand. Maybe when there is no money, and I will agree, but now I am not broke.

Maya assures that during sex, even oral, she always uses a condom.

Here, I carry a condom with me, a lubricant for anal sex, - a woman demonstrates the contents of a small handbag. - There are clients who do not want a condom, but I do not mess with them. I also try not to get into the car if there are more than two people, you never know what.

From the side of the parking lot, a trucker client is heading towards the woman. Two minutes of negotiations - and Maya disappears for an hour in the cab of a tractor with Russian numbers. His colleague, expelled from the car for a while, is trampling near the truck.

Do not look at me, I do not use the services, - the man was embarrassed. - And that colleagues of girls remove - I do not condemn. A man has such a warehouse - nature demands its own. But women need to earn money. Girls work everywhere - both in Russia and in Europe. And although they are from different countries, they do not differ from each other in appearance, even ours are prettier and more cultured somewhere.

At this time, new girls appeared on the side of the road. One looks bright: long hair with a reddish tinge, a black low-cut dress and ballet shoes.

It is easier to stand in such shoes than in heels. Legs get tired. I have been here for a long time, the first time I went to the track when I was 22 years old. And now - 36, but I look younger, - the woman smiles with dark spoiled teeth. - I am divorced from my husband, mother-heroine - six children. The eldest is 14 years old, the youngest will be three. I receive 2,400,000 for a small allowance. Is this money? I need at least 400 thousand a day. In general, I have my own house, they gave it as a large house. Repairs did, too, money was needed very much. I have no relatives, my mother was deprived of parental rights, and then she died.

The woman says that it is difficult to work on the road: “The police are constantly raiding the roads, even pulling them out of cars in the forest.”

Drivers actively react to the bright appearance of a prostitute, so in ten minutes she leaves with another client.

I’ll go home, I’ve worked, I’ve already called a taxi, ”says her friend. - Well, yes, we always take a taxi to the track and back. In one direction, 160 thousand taxi drivers take. Actually, I've been working here for a long time. Many have been here for several years. After all, some have loans, children. What are we, window sills to gnaw? Why do men come to us, it is known: wives are lazy, their head hurts. One of my clients once said: "My wife's eyebrows did not hurt for a month."

After a while, Maya appears on the road with lipstick smeared on her face.

Everything worked out, - the woman says, chewing gum and at the same time picking her teeth with a toothpick. - Hard work, sometimes thankless. Sometimes you get so much work in a day ... No matter how good a condom is, there is still friction. You work with several clients - everything hurts.

Some motorists passing by us honked and waved their hands. Maya smiles back and blows kisses.

When there are no women in the car, the men greet us. And if women are driving, they are ready to turn their heads out of cars, looking at us - as if we were some kind of special. And you look (this is already for us) - if a Volkswagen Touareg appears, we will run away with you. The morality police ride it. And you stand with me, so you will be noticed too. Although you do not look like a prostitute and your mood is not like that - people from afar feel, you see: no matter how much we stand, no one stops. You can't work with this approach.

Already evening. Maya takes a long Velcro flicker from her small bag and hooks it onto this very bag.

Have you heard a joke that Belarusian prostitutes can be distinguished from others by the obligatory flicker? Wow, no joke. And then it will get dark now, and I won’t be seen, and the traffic police can fine me. Now I’ll work it out and go home, only Nadya will be left here drunk, and they will take her ...

For most of us, the idea of ​​truckers was formed by the series of the same name. And someone knows about the profession from the inside thanks to the stories of hitchhikers, who are often picked up by truckers. How do truckers live in Russia and why did they go on strike because of Plato? We tried to figure it out.

1. Choice of profession

Truckers are either romantics or pragmatists. The former like to be on the road, while the latter hope to earn. Most often, truckers are people from regions who want to earn money and “travel”.

2. Mastering the profession of "truck driver"

To become a trucker, you need to get a category C (truck) and CE (truck with a trailer) license. Then get a job in a transportation company. Or buy your own company and do private transport. The cost of the main tractor varies around three million rubles, and the trailer will cost another one and a half million.

A self-employed driver is either respectfully or ironically called "master" among colleagues. But in fact, working without a boss is even worse in some ways: usually such truckers have less rest and take any job in order to “recapture” the cost of the car faster. Finding clients on your own is not easy either.

By the way, there are almost no women in the profession. This is due not only to the way of life, but also to the fact that in the event of an accident, sometimes you have to change the wheels yourself or repair a huge car. Not all women can do it.

3. Salaries of truckers

You can earn from 40 to 70 thousand rubles a month, but it all depends on the company. Worst of all, according to the stories of drivers, is the drivers of Magnit. They have the lowest salary, and the products must be delivered exactly on time.

Working for yourself and not sitting still, you can get 70-80 thousand per month. But every 50 thousand kilometers you need to undergo maintenance, which costs from 50 to 100 thousand rubles. And also gasoline. Force majeure also happens when, for example, a wheel breaks. The driver, working as an individual entrepreneur, takes all these costs on himself.

4. Forced rest

By law, the driver must have a tachograph installed in the cab. This is a device for recording speed, mode of work and rest. Depending on the time spent behind the wheel, the trucker must rest a certain amount of time. This is by law. But in reality, on the territory of the Russian Federation, many of these rules are neglected in order to quickly reach their destination.

5. Sleep and food

Drivers sleep most often right in the car. In modern trucks, behind the driver's seat there is a full-fledged bed with a mattress - a “sleeping bag”. Sometimes the truck is even equipped with two such sleeping bags, if truckers are traveling together in a truck. Drivers spend the night most often in special parking lots, and not on the roadsides. There, another driver may enter the truck, or the trucker will become a victim of robbers. The driver will be solely responsible for the lost or damaged cargo.

Sometimes the company pays for an overnight stay at a roadside hotel. But here the drivers are ready to go to the trick: you can sleep in the cab and provide a fake receipt for an overnight stay at the hotel, and take the money for yourself. Fake receipts and checks are sold by special people working near the highways.

You can also safely spend the night in areas where truckers stop in a “bunch”. There can be 10-20 trucks at a time. True, there is a risk that while the driver is sleeping, his diesel fuel will be drained. It will be impossible to prove anything.

As for food, most eat in roadside cafes. Good information is shared between colleagues. Some take food with them (canned food, tea, pasta), especially if the car has a stove and a mini-fridge.

6. Do drivers sleep with prostitutes?

It depends on the trucker himself. By the way, truckers call girls of easy virtue "shoulder" or "shoulder". A shoulder is a few tens of kilometers of the track - the distance from gas station to gas station.

7. Communication with colleagues

All trucks are set to a special 15th communication channel. There, drivers warn each other about traffic jams, traffic police officers and accidents. Here you can also clarify the road, find out where to buy diesel fuel and other useful information. Chatting on other frequencies. By the way, the passenger of the truck is unlikely to understand what the truckers are talking about - the radio has a very specific sound.

8. Why don't truckers like cars?

Any truck has a so-called blind zone - a part of the road that is inaccessible to the driver's view. Dalnoboev is very annoyed that the drivers of "small" cars do not understand this and create the risk of an accident.

9. "Plato"

"Platon" is a Russian system for collecting fees from trucks weighing over 12 tons. It is believed that trucks cause damage to federal roads, destroying them. The additional tax should help support the transport infrastructure. The introduction of "Platon" caused dissatisfaction among the carriers and marked the beginning of mass protests. Strikes by disgruntled drivers and demands to abolish the tax only led to a reduction in the tariff.