Revelations of a long-distance train conductor: life, sex and work on the voyage…. How to meet a girl on the train Crime without punishment

When meeting, avoid standard and banal phrases. Most begin with sentences: "Girl, can I meet you?" or "Have we met before?" Therefore, many girls have developed a habit of stopping such courtship before they begin. Find your own original phrase to start dating. It is desirable that it does not contain the "not" particle. For example: “I’m missing an extra ticket to the show for tonight. How do you feel about the fact that I invite you to the theater? "

Use your surroundings to improvise. If a girl, for example, is reading a book, then this circumstance can be used both to start a conversation and for further conversation. But, on the other hand, if the girl you like goes to one, is not busy with anything and just misses on the road, she will more easily make contact.

Not many people want to break away from reading, from listening to music, from surfing the Internet for the sake of casual acquaintance.

Girl in the company of friends

In many cases, getting to know a group of girls is much easier than meeting singles. Firstly, because the girls are not busy with anything, except for communicating with each other. And a new acquaintance will only give new topics of conversation. Secondly, being in a company, women feel more secure, protective instincts weaken. If everything goes well, all that remains is to do so to sit next to the girl you like, getting rid of your friends.

In addition, the girls in the company have a habit of talking loudly without being embarrassed by those around them. From their conversation, you can glean a lot of useful information - for example, what is the name of the lady you like. Then, directly when meeting you, you can impress her by calling her by name.

If the girl is alone on the train

For acquaintance with girls traveling alone on the train, a method is well suited to offer to solve together. If you have a tablet computer with you, try offering to watch a movie. Or try carefully and discreetly putting a note in her pocket asking to call you back with your phone number. If she calls back, honestly tell us that you wanted to meet, but the train was full and you could only put a note in your pocket.

Get the girl interested, carefully increase the dose of attention to her, but so that she fights for your attention to her. At some point, you will feel like old acquaintances.

When dating, try not to behave like everyone else. Come up with something of your own, original. Show your interest in the girl. Remember to show your good manners to make a good impression. Do not ask about her personal life: most girls answer to casual acquaintances that they have been busy for a long time, even if they are not. This is a defensive reaction - if your acquaintance continues, you yourself will learn all about it.

It was last week. At the Balabanovo station, passengers got on the train following the Maloyaroslavets - Moscow route. Opposite me sat an unfamiliar girl and the same. They sat down almost at the same time - the girl a little earlier - and immediately after her the man. At first I thought that they were going together: either dad and daughter, or relatives, or acquaintances - they just landed on the bench almost synchronously. The man immediately fell asleep. In the morning train, many do this: they sit down and immediately go to sleep. People sleep on the train in different ways: someone at the window leans against the window, someone (of small stature) slides a little forward on the bench, crossing their legs with the passenger opposite (as a rule, acquaintances - for such a "crossing" friends-acquaintances specially sit down opposite each other, which allows them to sleep all the way), resting the back of their heads on the back of the bench. And some, as a rule, are tall, sleep sitting upright with their heads on their chest, or bend forward, laying themselves on their own knees, and if there is a bag or briefcase, they use them as a pillow.
So, the passenger opposite has chosen the last position: he put the bag on his knees and bent over it, as if dozing. At first I did not pay attention to him.
The girl next to him was more interesting. She is dressed very simply, even poorly. The phone she got out from time to time was cheap. Some kind of "grandmother's" blouse. Uncomplicated skirt - not very short, slightly above the knees, and flared. She was sitting on the edge of the bench with her legs crossed, slightly sideways, so that her legs were slightly in the central aisle, so she sat with her back half-turned to her neighbor. And her skirt filled all the space between them. And then I noticed something strange. From under the left leg (closest to the girl) fingers appeared. Nothing else. Just wiggling fingertips. The man, hiding behind the bag lying on his lap, bent down so as to pass his right hand under his left leg and reach with his fingers to ... To what? What was he reaching for? The handbag (cheap and obviously not holding any jewelry) lay on the girl's lap - and he could not reach it in any way. I began to watch, ready to intervene at any moment. The man's fingers groped the edge of the girl's skirt and began to wrinkle this edge, rub it, as if ironing ... The man's eyes were closed, but his eyelids trembled. However, the girl was alive and from time to time changed her position, moving a little, which caused movement of her skirt, which slipped out of the man's fingers. In these moments, he somehow shuddered, removed his fingers so that they were not visible from the side. And he began to tremble. No, he was just starting to "sausage". He was shaking like an alcoholic during withdrawal (I have seen such horror). He was simply in a fever. He clenched his teeth tightly, the eyelids opened slightly - and some dull pewter eyes appeared. Then he moved a little towards the girl and again, imperceptibly, slipped his fingers under his leg, felt for her skirt - and his fever ceased. The face became calmer ... This continued several times. But the girl began to notice something. First I picked up my skirt, tucking it under my leg. And then she completely disappeared. You should have seen the despair and horror that gripped the man. But almost immediately the second girl took the place of the first girl. This one was in jeans. The man appreciated the situation and changed tactics. He began to stretch his fingers not under his leg, but as if over it, also covering himself with his bag, one might say, from under the bag - to the side. Apparently, he just needed to touch a woman's clothes or a woman's body.
From that moment on, I started taking pictures. Of course hidden. On the phone, of course.

Here you can see how a man presses his foot against the girl's leg (his leg is at an angle) - this way he shortens the distance between them so that it is easier to reach her with his fingers.

I tried to make several "portraits" of him.

And here he turned around, apparently in search of a screened-out girl.

Photos: © korsi
And here he is in all his glory. Pay attention, he looks pretty decent, clean-shaven, cleanly dressed. (Tanya's tattoo is visible on his left hand.) He is not a bum at all. I was driving, apparently, from home. Maybe to work. The bag was half empty. What is in it - God knows.
But actually, I would like to warn girls against such a neighbor (on the train, bus, or somewhere else). I don’t know what his motives were, why he reached out with his fingers to the girls’s clothes, why he was shaking ... Maybe he’s not a maniac. But ... God protects those who are taken care of.

The conductor girl anonymously spoke about life on flights, sex on trains and her work

September 27, 2016. Marina (the name was changed at the request of the girl) has been working as a conductor for several years, the work, according to her, is difficult and thankless, but everything has its advantages. The editors of the Internet portal "Gorod Kirov.RU" tried to find out the romance and the inside of the world of a long-distance train conductor.

Marina, please tell us how you came to this profession. What are the pros and cons of being a conductor?

I have been working on a long-distance train for almost five years, now I am 29. I liked trains since childhood, so I decided to connect my life with this job. Of course, at first glance, this profession is shrouded in some kind of romance, but, in fact, what I just haven't seen during this time. Of course, your personal life suffers, you constantly go somewhere and it's hard to build a serious relationship. At first, there were nervous breakdowns, and I wanted to give up everything, but then I got involved, especially since work is now tight, and here they pay well. The first time it was very difficult, you need to make contact with people who do not understand and shout at you, who prove their “rightness”. There were accidents and criminals.

This work completely changed me, I began to be very calm about everything, I know how to get out of quarrels, smooth out conflicts. I like to watch people: someone is polite and well-mannered, someone is rude. There are those who don't like everything at once: the carriage, the place, the wrong conductor, and the toilet is not bio. Passengers are very different - some are drunk, some are demanding, some are capricious, but you need to find an approach to everyone. Since a long-distance train, you are on the way for several days, there have been situations that, forgive me, a passenger's legs stink. I had to approach quietly and politely and culturedly ask them to wash them in the toilet and change their socks. It is interesting that many react calmly and with understanding.

The work is hard, you are a janitor, a salesman, a psychologist, a nanny, and a loader. The work is dirty, what to hide, and you tidy up the toilets yourself, if you have a long-distance train, you don't wash for several days, but you get used to everything. Sometimes it's very hard morally, my grandpa died in the first year of work in the carriage, my heart stopped at night. I wake him up, soon he will stop, but he does not wake up. Then I cried all night.

A huge plus in this work, which covers all the minuses, that you travel, visit different cities, I really like it, I live by it.

Please tell us about the most unusual incidents that happened along the way?

I had a very funny incident, of course, at first it did not seem funny to me. The passenger and the passenger ran and took turns complaining about each other, and they sat at different ends of the carriage. I could not understand what was happening, a woman comes up to me and says that one of the passengers is drunk and inadequate - points to a man. I looked at him closely, he seemed to be behaving normally, then he comes and complains to me about the passenger, they say, he saw how she steals from another passenger. And so it went on all day, by the evening it turned out that these were former spouses who had met by chance in my carriage. For the sake of everyone's peace, I moved the woman to a nearby carriage, otherwise they would have fought with me.

More recently, there was another married couple, by the way, they sat in Kirov, we went to Anapa. Well, firstly, they sat down already drunk, but I closed my eyes to this, they behaved quite calmly. But their party continued in the carriage, they did not react to my oral remarks, this continued until nightfall, and they sat down during the day. When they ran out of alcohol, the wife went to look for it from the conductors, passengers, had a fight with someone, even had a fight with one girl, it was decided to take her off the train. They called the police, warned them to meet the "client". I went up to the man, I said that we were taking your wife off the train, and he answered, do what you want with her, I’ll go to sleep. In the morning, when he sobered up, grabbed his head, got off at the next station, said he would go after his wife.

But there are good cases, not all bad. For example, my friend, a conductor, met her husband on the train. By the way, male guides have fleeting intrigues with passengers, girls in this regard are more modest, I suppose. But love also happens. Such a story happened, a young man sat down to one of the conductors in the carriage and began to look at her: now for tea, now for cookies, now for something else. At a long stop, he ran away bought her a bouquet of flowers, they got to talking, he asked her for a phone number, but never called back. Well, then the whole team was upset, the guy was so sincere, his eyes were burning, there was no doubt that he would call. And about six months later, when she was already working on another train, the same guy got into the next car. When he saw her, he rushed to her and said that he had lost his phone number, he knew only the name. Since then, I traveled on trains and looked for my lost love, asked all the conductors about it and found it. Have been married for three years.

Were there any sex seekers on your flights?

Of course, sex adventure seekers meet periodically. Sometimes couples simply buy back the compartment and, in principle, do not bother anyone, if only with sounds. I had a couple who locked themselves in the toilet for 30 minutes, other passengers began to knock on them, came out embarrassed with red cheeks. There were also cases when young people tried to indulge in carnal pleasures right in the reserved seat, for example, on the second shelf or curtained with a sheet. As a rule, their actions begin to condemn the surrounding passengers, and everything stops immediately.

And what is the salary of the conductors, enough to live on?

The salary is not bad, I get about 30-35 thousand, despite the fact that when I work, I hardly spend money. I also like the schedule, for example, if 8 days on the road, then they give 8 days off. In addition, we have a plan for the sale of tea, cookies and souvenirs, which we are obliged to fulfill, we are charged bonuses, and if the plan is fulfilled by the whole team, then an additional bonus is also given. Well, naturally, there are perks.

Do you have a good team?

We get to know each other at the meeting of the composition, we already know someone, even make friends with someone, it’s how lucky. Conductors and chiefs of the train are different. But more often than not we are one team, we help each other, I always help, if the guide has a shortage, and I have something superfluous, I share. When I started to work myself, on my first flight my set of linen and a cup holder were taken away, my colleagues helped me. So I try to always help.

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A working morning plunges us into the abyss of despair and melancholy. A lot of people start their day early. For some, it is not possible without coffee, someone wakes up and in a hurry puts on clothes, again forgetting to have breakfast, someone, on the contrary, goes to bed, but every day there are a lot of people on the trains. Someone is asleep, watching the sleep interrupted by the alarm clock, but mostly all sleepy, doing their own thing. This day was no exception, and by half past seven in the morning the train was filled with people from the big city. The dark world was flooded with heat from a multitude of people jostling in a small space. Habitual smells enveloped, drawing into general movement and chaos. The faint inviting smell of someone's perfume mingled with the harsh and tart sweat; the guy next to me carried the smell of a recently smoked cigarette. All this crowd creates noise, but it is blocked by the clatter of carriages and the whistle of air in the tunnels. All this gimmick is trying to out-shout the music in the headphones. A similar romance for the elite, who love the crowd and at the same time want to be a separate part, who observes people and notes a lot of interesting things. Each of them is unique, but they are all so similar. Here is a guy, his gaze buried in the window, as if there is something to see, except for the impenetrable darkness of the gray city. In his headphones, the classics are replaced by rock, and the violin is replaced by sharp drums and guitar. He could never understand how people listen to only one direction among the great variety of sounds, timbres and melodies. It seems that he does not want to look at boring people, his thoughts are completely occupied, his eyes dropped to the book in his hands. After reading it, he did not notice how it became very crowded. The guy didn't seem to notice the crowd on purpose, the music poured into the book, taking his mind far beyond the carriage. Suddenly, someone pressed against the back, there was nothing unusual in this, but somehow it became uncomfortable. Thanks to the push of the train, the contact between the bodies became even tighter. Breathing was felt at the top of the head, and it was difficult to squeeze at least a hand between the guy and the wall. It has become clearly more difficult to read. It seems that the voice of a man from behind is heard through the music, a hand slides along the side of the guy, trembling. Breath!? It looks like the guy from behind is pressed against the guy in front. So, it rests on the lower back ... Bag, hand, elbow! It was hard to believe, because the hand was on the side, and it's all stupid. The guy tried not to pay attention, but his eyes were riveted to the book. "In the square of light lying on the wall, an elusive shadow flashed. Roger turned around, feeling sick from fear ..." The man behind was still pressed against him, confusingly fanning the guy's long-uncut hair. Oh, he moved ... No, not where one could think. You can't imagine a worse situation. One had only to oversleep and now, on you, now you have to stand close to the subject with a cool ass. Although this is usually understood by sight or by hand, but not by the causal place. Standing so close, it was impossible not to inhale the fruity smell from the hair, as if he had confused shower gel with perfume. No matter how hard you try not to think, it still doesn't work. Like a rookie maniac, the guy behind was shaking, not knowing what to do. At the next stop, a pretty girl squeezed past him, her gorgeous bust slid down his back, forcing the guy to choke on his dirty thoughts about a threesome. Tudukh-tukh. Everything is as if on command, wave to the left, and then back. The hard boner was rubbing against the guy's rolls in front, each thrust was like torture. Red as a tomato, he pressed his forehead against the cold glass in an attempt to cool himself. They almost passed the center, which was always flooded with a lot of people. The number of people in the carriage dwindled, no one stopped them from leaving, but this did not solve the problem. What to do now? If he moves away, it will be extremely disgraceful. But standing like that is also not very good. The main thing is to calm down. One, two, inhale ... Sine square x plus cosine, multiply it all by ... In turn, sine is minus cosine, so integrals ... It seems to have felt better. Math is the best way to get away with it. Finally, they disconnected, but the awkwardness and tension between them was overwhelming. - Um, I'm sorry, what else can I say. My name is Oleg. What was happening was incredibly stupid. - My name is Artem. Nice to meet you, - turns her face red to the tips of her ears. - I'm going out on this one. Gives out this miracle, drilling with dull green eyes of Olezhek, real, though everything is red. And he already somehow regrets less that he slept. Here is a stop and the green-eyed miracle leaves the train carriage, which has already become familiar. Oleg was still late for the first pair. Natalya Vladimirovna, a teacher of a strange subject of philosophy, tried with all her might to burn a hole in him while he walked to his place. The day passed as hectic as always, and he rode back on the same train. It's good that people have come up with this type of transport. During the day, the guy recalled the morning incident more than once, while he mostly recalled the green-eyed miracle. His embarrassed face was imprinted in his thoughts. What a pity he didn't take his phone number. Because of this strange string of circumstances, Oleg became very interested in who the guy was. Schoolboy? Student? Studies? Works? It was very interesting to find out, so he was even a little disappointed that there were much fewer people on the way back. Tomorrow for his second day, he could sleep well, but this blissful feeling of anticipation of a late rise was as if something weighed down. But a day later again to the first, and, of course, he slept. On a run, buttoning up a light windbreaker, Oleg flew into the carriage, and the doors closed behind him with a characteristic creak. Again the morning rush hour. In the hot world of a plexus of sweaty bodies, everyone regretted that he was one of hundreds of the same idiots, working or studying in the morning. Standing in the crowd of these idiots, Oleg caught himself thinking that he was looking for him, that green-eyed guy, among the densely standing people. But alas, he is not here. Such a guy is impossible not to notice. Realizing this and also that he was a little disappointed, he leaned back on the door. And what did he actually want? It was good luck to meet him, and losers like him rarely get lucky. His mental stream farther and farther away from the main reasoning, when, after several stops, a human avalanche moved him to the middle of the car, now no longer holding back the tearing mat. Pinched like a can of sardines. And suddenly, in this crowd of life, Oleg noticed a bright top of his head. Are you kidding. Really ... No, well, surely he! Shaggy hair, is wearing headphones. Luck seems to be drunk today. By the will of fate, Artyom could get into any of the four carriages or go at another time. But no, he's here! Dumbfounded by the find, Oleg stared at how the blond guy moved towards the exit. He did not have time to think or realize what was happening, as he flew out, pushed out of this stuffy purgatory by the crowd. What was he actually going to tell him? What did you want to do? Surely it would have been another stupidity on his part, like the one that he then began to get acquainted with a guy whom he recently "rested against". He would even laugh at himself if it were just a joke told by someone else. The only thing he could think about now was to meet him again, maybe tomorrow or in a week, but he had to see the guy again. It turned not just into a desire, but almost a necessity. There was something ominous or significant about such an accident. Oleg didn't really believe in this, but now everything has become too obvious special. The guy was not even surprised when one Saturday morning, the same sleepy and gray with flashes of early fatigue, like many Saturday mornings, he was driving to the university, finding a sitting place that he was not going to share, suddenly a familiar figure appeared next to him. The owner of the figure was holding on to the handrail near the seats, on low-crowded days it was still difficult to resist, because the crowd did not support, and from the rapidly moving along the winding rails of the car, people inside it were carried from side to side, and striving to imprint them into the metal walls. Artyom seemed to be deliberately trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but Oleg found him as soon as he got into the high-speed car. It was only a matter of time before they were close and noticed each other, they always noticed, as if subconsciously looking for a familiar face in the crowd. Oleg the current situation amused him a little, for some reason a laugh was torn from his throat. Artem, on the other hand, deliberately ignored him, but their acquaintance did not burden him, rather he just felt awkward about what was happening. But apparently the guy did not yet know how uncomfortable it can be next to his acquaintance. - Hey, hello, - Oleg said with a smile, although it was uttered almost with a mockery. “Hello,” but Artyom’s voice did not disappoint, although it seemed to him that if he opened his mouth, a cowardly squeak would fall from his throat. - Would you like to sit down? the seated man suggested temptingly and patted himself on the knee. Looks like he thought it was funny. - Are you kidding? - the guy reacted, he was already shaking with indignation. What kind of joke are these? - Come on, sit down, we still have a long ride, - the guy added more seriously, continuing to smile and pat himself on the leg. His proposal was almost interesting to Artem, but what was happening became indecent and embarrassing, if you do not take into account their strange relationship. Few people in the carriage would have been pleased with their strange behavior. - Come on, you, - he got tired of waiting, and Oleg grabbed the guy by the hand, pulling him like a doll, trying to forcefully sit him on his feet. - No, not worth it, - just managed to blur out the struggling blonde, leaning his feet a couple of times, he still lost his balance and fell on the knees of others. At the same time, having plopped down unevenly, he, holding only one side of his body, tilted and almost fell on the neighboring people. It would be really bad if this happened, but nothing happened: as before, playfully Oleg grabbed the guy by the side and put him in the right direction. Now Artyom was sitting with both rolls on the knees of others and was ready to burn out of shame and at the same time burn the second one in this human pyramid, and it would be better to fail on the spot, then he would no longer be in this carriage with people that awkwardly glance at them with interest or almost hateful indifference. He will simply disappear through the hole, and the cars will rush over him literally ten centimeters in deadly proximity. It was incredible and a little funny. At that moment, Oleg suddenly did not care who this guy was, whom he now holds on his feet, it was not important, even unnecessary. Artyom, or even better without a name, did not matter as a person, all the time he was just a stranger on the train, only that was important. It seemed to Oleg that it dawned on him: he doesn't want to know anything about the guy, nothing, like an eternal mystery, secret and indestructible, and as long as she is, as long as he is, all this will be interesting. It will excite his mind, will entertain his mind while they travel along the usual route in the train to the university. In turn, even if Artyom would like to know something about his random companion, he would hardly dare to ask while he himself is silent. This happened in a strange way, they were both silent, knowing almost nothing about each other, and at the same time they continued to get into one carriage, the last one in the tail, and were the closest of them all in this cramped, people-smelling place. The fair-haired guy sat on his companion's lap and silently covered his face with shaggy bangs. They did not even budge, and continued to quietly approach each other, at the same time not taking a single step towards communication. They did not even talk about the weather, and only to say goodbye, they opened their mouths. Their secret connection remained the same, now constantly, as they got into the same carriage, they, without hesitation, approached each other. The awkwardness between them seemed heavy, but only they knew how easy it was for them in a confined space with a bunch of strangers whom you involuntarily begin to hate; how easy it was for them to be next to each other, as if they had met a long time ago, and everyone knew about the life of the other. But no one said that they were not even going to look in the face, although they involuntarily clashed their eyes. This did not create embarrassment, the cats did not gnaw their thoughts, they didn’t care who listened to what music, who loved turtles, and who might have allergies. They knew too much for strangers on the train. There was no framework between them, there were no laws of decency, they slept on top of each other, quietly leaving the world of dreams. With their behavior, the guys embarrassed, frightened and sometimes touched the people around, but everyone around did not matter, because it was for this, in order not to notice people around, that the guys got so close. But something still happened, something in their "communication" crossed some non-existent boundaries. Quite often in the morning and even at times in the evening they collided in the carriage, it was customary, no one could say for sure when it began, and even more so it would end. Although, for sure, everything initially went to this. The train drifted along the metal road ahead, the wheels creaking and tapping in their own rhythm. Artyom, carried away into the world of the rough poetry of modern literature, which he was reading, probably bought in vain, did not notice the habitual breathing around his neck. Oleg stood quite close and, perhaps, could hear the music playing in the ears of the one in front. It was common for them to be in this position, he no longer worried about that first time. Now his experiences were completely different. Outwardly, one could say that he looked the same as always, but no one knew his true "as always". What was going on in his head was almost incomprehensible. He himself did not understand that for about half an hour he had been looking at the guy's neck and, without stopping, was thinking about something. Sighing heavily, he stirred the guy's regrown hair with his breath, Artyom was surprised at the tension with which his friend pushed the air out of his lungs. He had no idea that he did it, still staring at his neck. Turning around for a sigh, he simply collided with Oleg's already lowered gaze. They stood close in the usual crowd, and when they turned around, their gazes were in terrible proximity to something inevitable. The guy wanted to ask worriedly what had happened, but he said nothing, there was no tension in the eyes of the person standing in front of him, but rather there was a lightness, which usually inspires people who have decided on something crazy. The guy's head became empty, not in a romantic sense, of course not, but he simply did not understand what he should be thinking about. After Oleg, the man began to move towards the exit, this reminded him that now Artyom's stop, they had almost reached it. In such a cramped space, it was clearly difficult for a man to squeeze, especially with his size, and he worked frantically with his elbows. From his pushing Oleg jerked forward, he, accustomed to this, did not react. But when he was pushed, he moved closer to the guy so that the breath touched the skin of the blonde. His gaze was still not brain-working. He, like a weak-willed doll, staggered at the wave of someone else's hand. The guy bent down again, seemingly from another push of the greasy mascara, that she could not move, even when she had already sucked in her immense belly and held her breath. Although no one moved, the guy again found himself dangerously close to someone else's face. His lips were not closed, and he immediately pressed a kiss to them. From such closeness, the earpiece flew off Artyom's ear and fell on his shoulder. The rock of the last century rumbled from the mini speaker, which rather spoiled the moment. Oleg's hand rose, almost touching the falling earpiece, and stopped on the guy's cheek. In almost one breath, he was ready to blow the roof off another with just a kiss. He stroked the fair-haired cheek with his thumb, while the rest of his fingers were buried in shaggy strands. Their bodies touched as strongly as in their first meeting, their mad heart pounded just as violently and Artyomka's cheeks burned. Only now he was clinging to the pervert on the train himself. Tearing himself away from the soft, pushing lips on thoughtlessness, Oleg whispered something to the guy. So close: now this was the only thing Artyom could think about, his lips almost touched the guy's cheekbones and whispered. Nothing was heard, the sound of the carriage sounded in my ears like a squeak, as happens in some dangerous situations, but this knock was more reminiscent of his heart, and, probably, it was so. Oleg again almost irritatedly repeated, bending over specifically to the guy so that he heard: "It's time for you to get out." Artyom almost read it on his lips than he heard it, but most importantly, he realized that it was time to push towards the exit. Out of habit, he began to advance, and did not have time to react in any way to what had just happened. As if spellbound, he got out of the car and remained standing on the platform, people passed by, touching him, a hand reached out to his face, he rubbed his mouth, as if he had drunk a cup of an incredible drink, and there was a trace of foam. The train rustled past, it was time to go, but he still could not move. The question of what happened was brewing by itself, after a while Artyom still did not understand his reaction and was going to talk about it. A week passed, but he was not there, Oleg disappeared, he still did not appear, and the question faded away by itself. If they met, he would have asked completely different ones: “Where was he?”; "Has something happened?" The more unbearable time passed, the more the guy became nervous. He did not read books on the way, all looking inside the car, as if spellbound, and hoping that he would accidentally appear like that. Nobody showed up, the crowd changed like a flowing river. And the guy was washed away by this river, daily slowly rinsed his brain. Why? Why is Oleg not showing up? What happened? So much time has passed. Almost forever. I see, that means he escaped. It became clear that they were unlikely to see each other again. Only now did he realize how little he knew about Oleg. This whole game turned into a joke, he was angry, as if he was being bullied. If he knew that everything is so and ... What? And what the hell would he do? Artyom stood pressed against the glass, just like in the recent past, the train began to slow down at a stop, an avalanche of people spun and, making a spiral, poured out of the car, at the same time adding people outside. The guy's thought faltered, and somewhere in between he remembered that this was Oleg's stop, he often sat down and went off at this stop. The guy walked around the half-full passenger lounge, feeling unconscious that there were blue walls. The announcer announced the next stop and warned of injury. Almost no one heard this in the noise. The last passenger crossed the threshold of the stuffy train at any time of the day. The doors began to slide when they were half close, at the last moment a guy flew out of the car, literally pushed out of the crack. Artyom was now standing on the platform and clearly did not understand what the hell he was doing here. The station means nothing, he didn’t even know the street, meeting a guy was now absurd. The guy only remembered that at a time when they were not silent, Oleg mentioned that he seemed to be living on the seventh. And now all he had was to look for a building higher than five stories high. It was not difficult, because now he was outside the city, and there are not so many houses and streets here. He walked for a long time along the only large street and wound circles around tall buildings. Inspection of yards and the like did not give anything. Well, that was understandable, nothing is more stupid than trying to find a person on the street. He bought a can of Pepsi at a nearby little store and, with a loud pshiknuv, drank it in one sitting. He took a deep breath, accepting his defeat, which was stupidity in general, and went to the subway, he had to go home. It was already getting dark, evening was coming, and Artyom dreamed of his stranger from the train in everyone he met. He walked to the station entrance, looking around one last time, as if trying to enjoy the place. Heading to the door, the guy saw another young man, which at such a moment, of course, reminded Oleg. Approaching the guy, Artem tried to pretend not to stare. Oh, this similarity. But it’s true, he was. Oleg crossed a small square, leaving the elevated train station. They collided right on the street, which was almost unbelievable. Artyomka's eyes seemed to light up, he just pounced on the guy, almost knocking him off his feet. He opened his mouth and then fell silent, Oleg looked at him dumbfounded, as if at a small insect in front of him. - What the heck? Why did you stop driving? - asked Artyom, nothing else occurred to him. - Yes, I began to travel earlier, I am no longer late. Oleg really seemed to be in genuine indignation. But there was clearly something wrong, because he kissed the guy, which means that everything is not so simple. Fate pushed them towards, again and again, and that kiss meant something. They were not in a stuffy, crowded carriage, the crowd did not press on them from all sides. They could easily breathe fresh air, standing in the middle of the square, but they were still too close, as if they were still being pushed towards each other. They were silent again, as if they had never left the train. Nobody started to speak. Artyom still, almost snuggling, was holding the guy by the clothes, clutching the guy's breasts with his hands. Suddenly something pushed him one last time. - I'm ... I'm 24. I work in a small agency. I have a puppy and an old cat. I also have two sisters, the younger and the older. I love westerns and sleep on weekends until the last, until they say that it's time for dinner ... - he chattered incessantly like a madman, and at the same time pulled the guy over himself. He seemed to be jerked off the chain, he still could not stop speaking, as if everything in his life depended on it. - I think you have beautiful eyes, but too impudent disposition. And just try to leave, I will never let you in. Oleg was shaking, probably from the fact that he was being pulled by the breasts, as if proving something and panting furiously in front of his face. He didn't know what to do, but the guy was right - now he has nowhere to go. - What? - only he said, as if he had not heard the tirade that had just been shot in his face. It's not clear who kissed whom, maybe Artyom reached out to him, ending his monologue with a bold dot, or maybe Oleg tried to shut him up. Now their tongues are intertwined in a dance of stupid hysteria. Their arms were wrapped around the body pressing against their owner, and they, as if not in the middle of the square, were ready to kiss, gasping for each other, and so on until the night. They stood there for a very long time, while passers-by, not noticing them, walked around to the side. What's in the train, what's on the street is the same.

In a crush, there is no time for maintaining decency. On the subway, did you feel an umbrella resting on you from behind, below the waist? Perhaps this is not an umbrella at all, which means that you must have fallen into the clutches of a frottere (from the Latin “frottere” - to rub). They are also called "tacherists" (from the English "touch" - to touch, touch). And in Russia they just call it - the sticklers.

Victims of the big city

I myself have found myself in such situations several times. One day the crowd carried me into a subway car packed with people, and I almost got into the Bermuda Triangle - I was squeezed from three sides by men. And suddenly I felt someone's overly playful hand sliding down my thigh. I tried to move away, but I couldn't even move. It was not possible to hit the bastard and throw a scandal, because it was not possible to calculate the impudent person from the absent faces of the men who surrounded me. At the nearest station, working hard with my elbows, I pulled myself away from the pervert, who enjoyed it, and I - the spoiled mood for the whole day. You need to know the enemy by sight. On one of the Internet site, I found a whole community adversaries and found out all the details of their sex life. Here are the stories of some of them.

“I became like that at 15. On the bus, a girl accidentally pressed her butt against me! I almost had an orgasm and almost went crazy with the adrenaline rush. Since then, in a crowded transport, as if by accident, I snuggle up to girls and women. This is how I live. In my normal sexual life, I do not experience such emotions and such strong arousal. "
Alexey, 25 years old

“I don’t come into contact with those who don’t want to. No pleasure! It is interesting to fondle with those who play along, and among the weaker sex there are not so few who want to enjoy bodily contact. I often meet with one woman at the Kashirskaya metro station. It seems to me that she herself is already waiting for me. I squeeze her "buns" at several stations. You can see how she is crazy! And these games charge me with energy for a couple of days, and then I again go in search of a new victim. "
Sergey, 23 years old

“I've been doing this for ten years already. I can’t live without it and I’m not going to stop. My roof was blown off. I’m not a pervert and I don’t throw my household out of my pants. Very delicately, and only when I feel a positive response, I caress the woman below the waist. If you approach the matter wisely, then no one is offended. Besides, I still go to the flea market every day, so why not enjoy it? Any guy in the shower pinner and those who call us maniacs are just cowards. "
Vladimir, 33 years old

Can't be touched!

Who? Usually, hold-downs- these are young people aged 22-30. They have higher education, they have wives or regular girlfriends.

Work clothes: They are neatly and discreetly dressed so as not to attract attention. Particular attention is paid to good perfume. It is believed that the weaker sex, inhaling a pleasant smell, fantasizes a prince behind his back and would rather give himself up to caresses. During "work" they do not drink alcohol, so as not to alienate the potential victim. In addition, strong drinks lull the vigilance. For conspiracy, they carry a briefcase, book, umbrella or package. So that the victim can think that it is not a hand that touches him, but some object.

Where? Capital hold-downs"Work" in trolleybuses, buses, trams and in the metro. Favorite route - Zamoskvoretskaya and Tagansko-Krasnopresnenskaya metro lines. In St. Petersburg the metro stations "Nevsky Prospekt", "Frunzenskaya", "Vladimirskaya", "Technological Institute" are popular with the adversaries.

With whom? Pin-ups prefer girls and women in tight-fitting trousers and short skirts. According to them, more often women who are well over thirty, out of season, lightly dressed young ladies and owners of curvaceous forms make contact.

How to get rid of? It is enough to turn to face him. The fact is that frotters never look the victim in the eyes, he doesn't care how you look. Seeing, he loses interest, because the pinch person is only interested in certain parts of your body: thighs, buttocks, pubis. On top of that, sensing your displeasure, Frotherrist, most likely, immediately retires. There are no rapists among them.

Crime without punishment

According to the observations of the frotters themselves, 50% of the ladies pretend that nothing is happening, 25% try to move away, 20% respond to their caresses and 5% behave aggressively - they can raise a noise. At the same time, real scandals happen in 0% of cases. Does it mean that frotter tricks always go unpunished?

Andrey, 26 years old:“Once I was pissed off. Apparently, he became familiar. Mistook for a pickpocket thief. There was no proof, so they let me go, but I paid the cops 500 rubles to get off the hook. I don’t appear there anymore, I “work” at other metro stations ”.

And this, consider, carried over. Interestingly, and the police are generally aware of what is happening, will they rush to your aid, if anything, and punish the pervert to the fullest extent of the law? I called my place of residence in Department of Internal Affairs of Tagansky District and asked how to prosecute frotterist.
- And where, you say, you were gripped? The attendant asked me. - This is not our area. But you contact the police at the address, and they will certainly help you. You just show the one who touched you and he will be punished.
After that, the law enforcement officer hung up the phone, without answering the main questions: under what article can you attract a pinner and what evidence will be required. It turns out that you can point a finger at any man you do not like, and he will be brought to justice?

For advice, I turned to Alexander Ostrovsky, Honorary Lawyer of Russia... He did not console me: “Theoretically, the frotterist can be brought to administrative responsibility for petty hooliganism. In practice, he will hire a lawyer, and you will not be able to prove anything. On your arguments, he will have his own: "It happened by accident, when the vehicle slowed down, etc." ".