Four wheels of good luck
Are the most successful novel in my life. All others somehow not really well came to an end. And this love - story continues to please me with reciprocity of feelings and the understanding increasing over time. I speak about the novel with the Car. Quite so, not with a concrete material subject on four wheels, and with the Car in general, as the making life.
the Difficult prelude
of Attempt to learn to go happened repeatedly. Friends generous suggested “to teach“, the girlfriend suggested to resemble for the company in driving school. On courses I honestly sat out theoretical occupations and jumped up on potholes of the smashed Petersburg small streets under grumble of the gloomy instructor. It had methods of education. For example, if I passed a sign, it stopped the car and ordered - “leave and look what the sign hangs there“. (Makarenko, you understand...) Then passed examinations, well understanding that plainly learned nothing.by
After a while, to be exact, years through two, it became clear that it is necessary to go. One. On long distances. Across Moscow. What is driving across Moscow, I think, it is necessary to explain to nobody. In a condition of easy horror before novel I decided to take driving lessons. The instructor whom I found was surprisingly quiet and friendly. He did not raise the voice - and it was very important. For this reason many women cannot learn to go accompanied by husbands at all. Unless there is a chance to think when on the right cries on safety of the car and absence at you though some brains are continually distributed?
the Instructor Sasha reacted to all difficult situations lightning pressing of a brake (for those who do not know - in the school vehicle special pedals for training are equipped) and an unperturbable explanation of my mistake. Besides, we long and carefully worked such trifles which often bring beginners - start-off from the place on rise, arrival in garage a backing, a turn in two steps etc.
“You will go, - Sasha told me, - I see those who are hopeless, you not from them at once“. These words warmed my soul exhausted in three months of training. Two times a week, on an hour and a half - I studied, according to many, too long. All it seemed to me that else early to take the wheel alone. Gradually we with the instructor studied my road from the house for work, then from work to shop - and so on. At last Sasha told me - “will be enough already, come off a skirt. You will not go one yet, bigger you will not learn“.
Then my novel did not think yet to begin. To me all the time was terrible. At first - it is simple to go, then - to go in an environment of other cars. Then - to go in a stopper, to long distances, to overtake etc.
A at me appeared then Marusya. And my heart began to fight differently. Marusya was small, red, obedient and convenient. Generally, not so important, what it was brands, models and years of release. She was called Marusya and had only to it inherent character. In one morning I prishlepnut an exclamation mark on a windshield, took the wheel and one went through all Moscow to work. There was the fifth month of my pregnancy. Through an hour and a half which - as having parked at office, I existed the most exhausted person. From thought while it is necessary to come back home, me it became bad.to
In one and a half years to Marusya got much. It roared on ruts, slipped in snowdrifts, sharply braked and with squeal started from the traffic light (when I had an attack of driver`s narcissism). Few times she was beaten - not strongly, but it is offensive. She suffered, the poor little girl because we with it loved each other and understood. Once she suddenly got up. It was cold, wet and is far from the subway. I already had quite noticeable stomach and all “pleasant“ feelings connected with it. As the cowl opens, I knew where water for windscreen washer - too is filled in. But on it my knowledge of the device of the car came to an end. Then I sat down, calmed down and began to keep saying: “Marusechka, please, let`s go, we only there and back, and then I will show you to mechanics“. The car thoughtfully sneezed, shuddered - and quietly went. Familiar men, of course, indulgently giggled, listening to this story, but I am still sure that we then agreed with car.
After the first year driving I had all typical signs self-confidently of “teapot“. For example, senseless overtakings (it is simple “that knew!“ ), fussy evolutions from a row in a row. All beginning drivers at whom there passes the first fear make the same mistakes. They try to prove - “I am able! Look - the car obeys me!“ From here - excessive risk, and women are inclined to panic at a decisive stage of maneuver. (It is especially bad when it occurs at a complete ignorance of driver`s ethics. But about it a bit later)
We left Marusya for the reasons prosaic - it began to break, and with spare parts for it there were problems. There was other car, become serious and become more respectable. But my heart remained with it. Meeting on the road with same, I speak about myself “Maruskina the little sister went...“
Object of close attention
to go in the family way sometimes it was cheerful. When I was stopped by inspectors of GAI, I right there opened a door, undertook hands a roof and began process of carrying out of the stomach of salon. Most of observers right there waved on me a hand and nervously cried out: “Oh, go from here rather!“ . Somehow time I stopped near a post - to ask where it is better for me to be developed. The GAI officer, having observed my painful “exit“ from - for a wheel, it allowed to be developed directly here, through a double continuous marking. And now present a picture - before eyes of the amazed drivers I drive off from a post and before a nose at inspectors I violate all possible rules. And inspectors look to this disgrace following and only shake with amazement the heads.
(Of course, now I understand that it was not really good to be nervous so during pregnancy. The beginning driver is just a ball of nerves and fears. But I carried the little daughter much more surely as had semi-annual experience.)
the Myth that the woman on the road is an accident, is thought up, of course, by men. The beginning drivers everything are approximately identical. And with experience distinctions in style of driving at women and men are shown. Yes, we are sometimes reinsured, sometimes we are very cautious, we will sometimes obey impulsive decisions. But statistically, women several times have serious accidents less often - and all because are less inclined to risk and much, take the drunk wheel incomparably less often.
of the Woman park worse and go a backing - it is the fact. I somewhere read that at these two operations that hemisphere of a brain which is better developed at men is involved. At least, “the parking the back“ brought to me most of all sad thoughts of own unfitness to this life... But I puffed, repeated attempts and tried not to pay attention to joyful faces of the male audience. ALL OF THEM for some reason terribly rejoice when the woman makes mistakes driving.
But over time I understood that I on the road have a mass of advantages. If I need to be reconstructed, and the next number of cars persistently pretends that I do not exist, I try to catch an eye of the closest driver and I do the look designating approximately following: “the uncle, pass, you such big and strong...“ And if the unique person who does not react to it comes across and stupidly goes further, he is exposed to full contempt from surrounding drivers. But most of men indulgently pass there where it is necessary for me. I call this trick: “go, the woman, I today kind“.by
With inspectors at me developed the tactics too. In - the first, I always admit the guilt. Silently and without wasting words. I apologize, smile, I pay (and what to do?) penalties. However, often one the fact that the violator does not argue affects the representative of traffic police soothingly and he lets go in peace. If the fault is disputable, and there is no wish to get into argument, I usually ask questions. For example, how to pass somewhere. What is meant by this bulb at me in the car? How many the coupon of checkup is still valid? Any question which the inspector understands is good. (Sometimes I even ask what weather will be tomorrow. Do not worry - they know it too.) It shows me what it clever, I am scary grateful to it - and behind all this we “forget“ the reason of our warm meeting, leaving quite happy with each other.
Driving at the woman character either spoils completely, or becomes just gold. On the one hand, daily and repeatedly abnormal drivers who cut meet, signal in an occasion and without, sharply brake both other, and other. It angers. With another - anyway it is necessary to exist in collective under the name “participants of the movement“. And therefore you begin to understand that it is necessary to be tolerant, to react not so much by rules how many on a situation and to treat people around with respect. Observance of unwritten rules of a good form distinguishes true professionals on the road. If you are overtaken - do not accelerate, and give to the right. If the person has to be reconstructed - brake and pass if you are going to turn, let know about it in advance etc. Indecently without special need to blink a driving beam (though in Moscow it became almost a commonplace now). Recently I think that it is time for women who driving became very much, to set an example of ethic behavior on the road. I, for example, always thank if I am given way. It is simple - to wave a hand or to smile, and everyone feels slightly - slightly better.
Sometimes sense of danger driving vanishes. Sometimes you begin to perceive a landscape behind a window as the picture which rushes by. Sometimes it is necessary to abuse himself for carelessness and exaggeration of the opportunities. Sometimes you have accidents...
But for me the car became something like the psychotherapist. The feeling of the road cures melancholy and a depression, helps to rise a little bit over a situation and to see the horizon. We with car as if make the small world in which there is everything that is necessary for life. It is strange to tell, but on the way I have minutes of true tranquility and tranquility unattainable in other conditions.
Despite all difficulties with repair and gasoline, traffic jams and penalties, the car gives some portion of freedom which is always not enough, especially to women.
Though - exactly today I suddenly doubted it. I stood on the traffic light, and by the girl on rollers imposingly gave a ride. In her look, a figure and slow quiet movements there was so much freedom and completeness of life that I felt sorry for myself, locked in iron and plastic, squeezed in a framework of traffic regulations. And now I in thoughtfulness glance at show-windows of sports shops....