This story was told to me by my wife’s aunt, who from the late 1980s to the middle of the 2000s worked as a tram driver in Moscow.

From the 1st person.

In the mid-1990s. I go by tram, Saturday, late evening, winter, wild ice. And here I see a truck running across my side from the mountain. Probably couldn’t get in, it turned and pulled.

I hit the brakes, turned on the signal, but I still understand that our trajectories will cross.

The sound of broken glass. The tram goes off the rails and stops.

I go to the salon. There are a couple of frightened landers, no injuries.

I went out on the street. The driver runs out of the truck, runs to me and begins to read.

Thank you, thank you very much! Oh how lucky I was! What would it be if not you.

Why thank you for that? Gai will be full of you now. You will also replace your truck at your own expense. If I had stopped earlier, I might not have struck.

Better in you than there. He showed where he was heading.

And there is a restaurant with a parking lot of 600 graces and all kinds of Grand Cherokee.

OSAGO did not exist then, and ordinary people did not drive such cars. The truck driver was really lucky.