З життя
My Friends Refused to Let Me Eat at the Table—So I Tossed Food Down from the Top Shelf to Them
I travelled to my parents house in a second-class train carriage. My ticket was for the top bunk, but it didnt bother me at all. The lower bunks were occupied by two women. I thought Id wait for the ticket inspector on the lower level, but even then, one of them started complaining that I was climbing up.
When I went to get something to eat, the women blocked my way to the table. They deliberately sat on either side and quietly sipped their tea so I wouldnt invade their space.
Could I just grab a quick bite? I asked politely.
Young man, your tickets for the top bunk; you must have saved a bit of money. You can eat up there! We dont want to sleep and then smell your food afterwards. Besides, we need our rest, one of them told me.
I realised they had no intention of moving. So, I made my bed and climbed onto the top bunk with my pot noodle. Just as I started eating, the train jolted suddenlymy dinner tumbled right down onto the lower bunk.
Noodles ended up everywhere, including tangled in the fancy hair of the fellow passenger below. Long strands of pasta sprawled across the compartment. I was torn between laughing and crying.
Young man, havent you learned to eat on a train? Is this your first time or something? Its disgraceful! the passenger below exclaimed.
I swear, it wasnt intentional! I replied, already trying to pick noodles out of her hair.
All night long, the compartment hummed with the smell of instant noodles. Even the train staff avoided the lady. She wanted to tidy up, but how could she manage with nothing more than a tiny sink? The train was an ordinary oneno modern comforts.
I slept soundly, though the scent of noodles kept reminding me I was still hungry. What can I say? In the end, they really brought it on themselves.
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