A Russian boyar (baron or some such title) who needed a ride from one city to another in the middle of a winter, when there was lots of snow. He went to an inn where all the izvoshchiks were, and they all turned their heads when he asked for a ride... except one, who said he's going that route for twenty years.
When they passed half of the way, the carriage hit a nasty bump and rolled over.
- What's the matter, don't you know about this bump? Didn't you say you ride here for twenty years?
- Yes, sudar', I do, and I roll over each time!