Old Man

I never imagined something like this would ever happen.
I was on the bus, standing in the front next to the seats for elderly people.
An old man was sitting in one of the seats, and an old woman was sitting beside him next to the window.
When she was getting off, he refused to move to let her through, yelling,
“There’s enough room!”
She got off after a struggle.
He also wouldn’t make room for me to sit in her place.
I had to squeeze myself in against him.

“It can’t be what I think it is. He’s an old man! His hands are shaking!”
I said to myself.
He got closer to me and asked,
“Is this Raml Station?”
“No, we’re still in El Mansheya,” I replied.
I was trying to keep some distance between us.
“Maybe he had to come closer because he was hard of hearing.
I’m sure he doesn’t mean it.
But what if he did mean it? Am I going to make a scene over someone who’s as old as my grandfather?
I’m sure he doesn’t mean it,”
I thought to myself.

A lady behind me was empathetic enough to tell me,
“Come sit in my place.”
“Let her pass, please,” she told the old man.
“There’s enough room,” he said once again.
“Let her pass!” she shouted.
“Let her pass, hajj!” the driver yelled.

He finally got off at El-Gondy el-Maghool, which is before Raml Station.
“I noticed he only let women sit next to him,” the lady told me.
“And the woman who was sitting next to him before you quarrelled with him,” she added.
I don’t know what I would’ve done without the help of the other passengers.
What could I have done anyway?
If I had made a scene, would anyone have believed me?

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