In the frosty winter of 2010-11, I worked in a roadside cafe. Those who drive along federal highways are familiar with this type of catering: small establishments stuck on both sides of the road offered simple and hearty dinners, inexpensive and without frills. The main contingent is truckers, with one of whom this story is connected.
Who if not we?
That cafe was located about 600 km from Rostov in the direction of Moscow, on the M-4 Don highway. A couple of halls, parking, showers - in principle, "assortment" as in all similar establishments. I am at the bar, but in fact my position combined the duties of a waiter, cashier and cleaning lady. Another important element that came with my workplace was a walkie-talkie tuned to the same wavelength as the walkie-talkies in trucks. On it, I periodically broadcast a typical advertising text:
Cafe "UYUT", located 45 * km towards Moscow, invites you to have a delicious meal. At your service there is a parking lot, a shower, a shop "100 little things" ...
And further in the text. It was through this radio that we learned about the trouble that truckers faced in the very cold.
The lingering traffic jams in which they stood because of the blizzard, the forced warming up of the car so as not to freeze - all this led to the fact that the guys were simply left without money. The entire budget allocated for the road literally flew into the exhaust pipe, they came to us frozen, hungry, but ordered the simplest: soup and a couple of slices of bread.
There was simply no money for a full dinner. And what is it like in winter - and without food?
There were several people working in each shift: me (the bartender), the waitress, the cook, the dishwasher and the security guard. We were allowed to eat a certain number of dishes per day: not a hodgepodge, of course, and not chops, but borsch, kharcho, mashed potatoes with a cutlet - that was possible.
It was frost for more than one day: on the second shift we had already brought food from home with us and left our “daily” portions to feed the especially hungry. The manager of the cafe, seeing this "disgrace" - the cafe was losing revenue from our initiative - silently turned off the surveillance cameras. We understood this as a permission.
"Selling diesel fuel, to Moscow!"
On the radio, I often heard "announcements" of truckers who were selling surplus fuel and lubricants: as a rule, it was diesel fuel of good quality at a price lower than at gas stations. That winter there was almost no surplus: everything went to warm up, so I was surprised at the request of another visitor:
- Hi! Here's the deal... Can I use your radio? On my adapter is covered, I can not go on air.
The man said that all the money ended near Rostov: a blizzard found him in the fields, he had to buy tea and bread at exorbitant prices from the ubiquitous lovers of easy money. By the time he got to our cafe, he didn’t have the means to pass through the turnstiles on the toll road, so the trucker decided to get rid of some of the diesel fuel.
The manager didn't let the guy go behind the counter, so I had to go on the air myself. But it’s one thing to voice an advertisement for a cafe, and it’s quite another to sell fuel! I was a little obscured, but my finger habitually pressed the button:
- Selling diesel fuel, to Moscow. Cafe "Comfort".
I had to talk more than once, and not twice, but in the end a buyer was found, and the driver solved his problem.
... Rumors on the road spread quickly. Later we were treated to fruit more than once and advertised to our friends. We sincerely tried to help the drivers, because the road does not favor anyone, and an emergency, combined with the indifference of others, can easily lead to sad consequences.
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Your friend and helper, Vilkin!