The Bus

The bus is full. She will have to stand with her groceries. The person seated nearest her glances up and scowls.

*Mais qu’est-ce qu’il a à me regarder de travers celui-là? Il pourrait se lever au lieu de me fixer et de faire la gueule! Et en plus il est moche, mais moche! Pff, plus rien n’a d’importance ici-bas, plus rien n’est sacré! Ok, on dirait ma mère qui parle mais finalement elle n’avait pas tort. Enfin, pas sur tout, par exemple dans un bus, les hommes et les enfants devraient se lever pour les femmes. De tout âge! Avec ou sans paquets! Sans poser de question! Ah! Si j’étais restée avec Jean-Marc, je n’aurais pas à supporter ce genre de situation. Mais quelle teigne ce mec! Il se décrotte le nez maintenant. Ah! Mais il est dégoûtant! Dégoûtant*
TR- “But why is he staring at me like that? He could get up instead of staring and scowling. And he is ugly, so ugly. Ouch, nothing matters anymore, nothing is sacred anymore on this earth… All right, I sound like my mother now, but at the end of the day she was not wrong, well, not on everything, for example, on a bus, men and children should get up for women. Of all age! With or without grocery bags! Without any question being asked! Ah! Had I stayed with Jean-Marc, I would not have found myself in this kind of situation! What a horrible guy this one, though. Now he is picking his nose. Oh no! He is gross, soooo gross!”

She turns around hoping to find another place even a standing place, even a standing on your toes with all your grocery bags in hand place. But nothing helps. The situation is even worse now than when she boarded.  The traffic is at its worse too, the bus barely moves.
She is desperate, and desperately trying to avoid looking at the horrible man for fear of seeing where he might have thrown the many treasures he must have found on his nasal hunt. Thinking about it she automatically moves the bags with her foot.  She feels nauseous just thinking about what might have already landed in one of them. She kicks the bags again … But instead of the bags she feels she has hit something hard. Oh! No! She realizes, but too late, that it is the man’s leg.

“Yo! Mamma! That was my leg! What do you think you doing? You already taking up all my space with them grocery bags and now you starting to kick me too?”

*Merde, merde merde*

“I am rilly rilly sorrie”

“Sorry? You bloody frogs! Were it not for us, you’d be a kraut today! You have hurt my leg real bad with your heels! I think you might have broken a part of my bone!”

“Pardon Sir! I am not understand what you say”.

“Right! I bet your mother said the same to your father the day you were made!”

* Il m’énerve ce vieux shmock! Je comprends rien à ce qu’il dit. Et puis, pourquoi tout le monde rigole? Heureusement le bus s’est remis en marche. Plus qu’un arrêt”.
TR- “This old schmuck is really getting on my nerves now. I dont understand a word he is saying. And why is everyone laughing? Luckily the bus is moving again. Only one more stop left”

“Yo! Young lady! I am still talking to you! I demand you most immediately remove them bags from my leg space! I am an old man whom you have has unjustly assaulted. Now I demand you respect my rights! And don’t you come with your ‘not understand’ accented nonsense”

*Mais, il est malade, ma parole! Il est complètement taré. Voilà mon arrêt. Je me sauve*
TR- « But, by Jove, the man is sick ! Completely nuts. Here is my stop. Off I am. »

“Excuse me, sorry sorry ”

* il y a tellement de gens, mon dieu mon dieu laissez-moi atteindre la porte et partir de cet enfer*.
TR- “There are so many people, dear god please let me reach the door and leave this hell.”

Pushing past the crowd of humans she makes her way to the door.
In the background the old man is still grumbling and talking about his rights and injuries and pension plan.
But no one pays him any attention anymore. He is but an old and ugly man.
She was the one who made it interesting. Not the poor sod.

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(June 4th, 2013)

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