"Cheerful" trip on the train
I want to share my story, which happened several years ago.
While still a student, I stayed at home on vacation, and now it's time to go back to study in Moscow.
As always the train was accompanied by my mother and helped me to arrange things.
When we reached my place, in my place sat a woman with a child of 10 years. I asked her to let me in so that I could put my bags. She snorted in displeasure, but still missed it. My mother and I exchanged glances. Later, my mother sent me a text message: "I feel you will still suffer from it." I believed in the best.
As soon as the train started, the lady began to scold her child, that she "Never was so frightened", "How could he do this", etc. - all in high tones. The child calmed her down and said that she was very sorry and would not do it again, but the woman was adamant. This was throughout the trip, so soon I reconciled with such a background.
An hour after the start of the trip, the woman said that I have to exchange regiments with her, since she can not sleep at the top, she still hurts and in general. I said that it was not my problem, and she could buy tickets in advance (as I usually do). The woman snorted and climbed up.
It was a happy hour. I hardly saw her and did not hear her (not counting abuse on the boy).
At 11 pm, when the whole train went to bed (including me), the woman got off the shelf, sat down in my place and began to get food. Ok, I moved. Then she began to read the book and talk to her son, clearly showing that she would not go anywhere from here. Then it seemed to her that my legs interfered with her, and she began to shove me.
I was indignant. And here it started ...
It turns out she's so good, she did not bother me all evening, but now she needs to eat, but I'm in her way. When a student sat next to me, the woman began to call us shl * hami, cover with a mat, and say to her son: "Look, never talk to such sluts." The call of the conductor did not help, the woman began to call us further, and the conductor only spread her hands, like, "What can you do?"
I was on edge. It was impossible to argue. It remained only to wait when Madame deigned to go to bed, and listen to the endless mud in her address. No one was going to help.
When the woman went to the toilet, I asked the boy: "Do you understand that your mother is completely wrong now?"
To which he sighed doomed and answered: "I know ... I'm sorry, she's very hot-tempered."
I then for a long time thought about this boy, about his mother, and about why the child is ten years more reasonable than his mother's bastards.