When I was a student, I regularly drove a 31 trolley bus, the route of which was from Color Boulevard to VDNH. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 8.05 a.m., the same driver arrived at the stop. A tough man in a beard and an unchanging blue Olympic. She called him Valeria. I was thin as a lion and challenging young. We already greeted our eyes and said goodbye in the area of the Theater of the Soviet Army, waiting for a new meeting after tomorrow. Of course, I slept one day. Of course, I quickly picked up textbooks, snacks, spare socks, a screwdriver and ran to the stop. It was 8.10. Valeria was waiting for me. The trolleybus was waiting too. When I closed the door, he smiled for the first time.