– We, the ones that live in Hatvan aren’t so polite. We are more half-witted.
– You are just acting, I know for sure you are not moved in the Hatvan – the dressed up didn’t forgive him.
– And what if? I still get off there – the drunken guy cut him, after which he finally kept still.
– Sir, be a man! The dressed up inflames him.
At this the drunken guy turns his back, looks at the woman who from the discussion with the window ignored him, shakes his head and gets off the bus that in the meantime stopped. After him almost half of the bus population got off.
– Sit down! The dressed up asked me.
– Thank you, but I get off at the first stop – I answer.
– Come away, please sit down! I sit.
Sir, this is how people are these days! The dressed up continued. You fight a life time, you work out to educate them, they drink a glass of plum brandy and all the teaching and education is for nothing …
In that moment, a man of nearly 50 years old, short of stature, with the face red, particularity of wine drinkers and the agility that only wine could give, rushes over me. I didn’t know him and I didn’t understand what he wanted, moment in which the dressed up addresses.
– Who was working, you … bastard …were you? … You, who has lived close to one’s belly … at the security unit?! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, you pig?!
I was put in a particular situation, an unpleasant situation. I leant down as to leave the words to pass over me, to whom it was addressed, so it won’t beat me also.
– Hey, you shut up! I know who you are, you over come yourself, I’ll fix you up! The dressed up replies to the one with the face red from wine.
– You don’t address me with you – the wine drinker says – you address to me with Sir …you idiot! You somehow think I am afraid of you, you zombie! Take a look here and see some worked hands! That’s why I’m not afraid of you! Let me see your fit chew mittens and remember that who works doesn’t fear you and your “brave” bandits!