In 2008, after the completion of the theoretical part of the railway engineering program, I passed a practice, after which I had to officially obtain the qualification of an assistant engineer of a heat truck. It must be said that our group studied in its own way: it was not a full three-year training, but courses exclusively with specialized subjects. People gathered together adults, even matriarchal, but very, very simple, and spent their free time not on snoring, but on strengthening the symptoms of alcoholism.

As a result, the graduation exams we all passed through money, because no person in the group was found who could do without it. The teachers asked for a very small amount, so everyone was comfortable. Unfortunately, because of this later on, on a serious railway field, to master everything again, and it was hard, but this is the price of laziness and emptiness.

So, the practice has begun. It was divided into two parts - repair and operation. At the repair we were given a lot of the most unpleasant and dirty work that the workers themselves did not want to do, in whose jurisdiction we entered. I returned home whole and full as a pipe cleaner.

This practice continued for a month, and then, in the second month, the so-called "exploitation" began - finally riding a train. I was handed over to an experienced and competent engineer with an unusual surname (if you read, hello you and thank you for everything). He immediately understood everything about me and treated me as if I should be treated as an unlearned man, that is, not very well. But the time went by, we learned poorly to coexist in the same cabin, and sometimes even talked about abstract topics.

Why did you decide to go to the railroad? He asked once.

I do not know. I have liked it since I was a child, I said.

Do you like it now?

In general yes. and now.

The machinery stumbled.

Why did you go to school instead of school?

I told how we "learned" and how we passed the exams through money.

It cannot be so, he said. There is no such thing in our technology. Who took the exams?

I thought and remembered:

My grandmother was like that. One of the main ones. Thick as a barrel. She was so dumb that she could barely get into the office. In what! I painted with my hands.

The engineer thought about it. I got the phone, knocked the buttons. He showed me a picture on the screen and asked:

This this?

I’m watching – surely!

She is, I say. Who is this?

It turns out to be my wife, he said.