It's Thursday night, 17.40. I leave the job in a good humor despite the little rain that annoying grave. I cross the street, a bad song in mind (of course it is bad that we retain the most) and stop near the bus shelter. Between two verses of my unpleasant song, I have time to tell me that the bus should go in the next few minutes, since the new service every 10 minutes has been established. Time passes, some people join me near the bus shelter and I still hums in my head.
A woman in her forties getting impatient and complain about the service. People around ignore it and pretend to look elsewhere. A young man beside her had the misfortune to cross his eyes and it went away. We all know that''Who has a sympathetic ear to complain that complains.'' On a roll phenomenal, loudly decried the injustice of which we are all victims having to wait in the pouring rain as well (driving rain? There was barely a few drops). In his diatribe against the transport company, it catches a passing man, hitherto quiet and cushy, which has probably done on purpose to make it even more rage (the lady was suffering from self-centeredness and self-absorption) of light a cigarette at least 20 meters away. And now is the entire Earth who has conspired to prevent them from going home early, the gods came together and the Devil got into the game. The bus of doom, which incidentally is still driven by the same driver who is incompetent to proceed to express this decision later to save traffic, is always, always, always late, every day of all weeks of every month of the year.
us give this brave lady that the bus was actually late and it was raining (just a little, we must remember). While Rihanna was still singing''Under my umbrella in my head''a duet with Garou (which is strange may happen in the brain), the bus arrived. And oh how nice lady exclaim''Finally! He will know the way I think this driver! .'' She enters the bus, first it goes without saying, leant on the edge of the door and asked the driver why he was late again. Raising his eyes to heaven, the driver says he is new on this bus route and there was a traffic jam. Not knowing what to say, the nice lady turns around and sits down muttering.
A woman in her forties getting impatient and complain about the service. People around ignore it and pretend to look elsewhere. A young man beside her had the misfortune to cross his eyes and it went away. We all know that''Who has a sympathetic ear to complain that complains.'' On a roll phenomenal, loudly decried the injustice of which we are all victims having to wait in the pouring rain as well (driving rain? There was barely a few drops). In his diatribe against the transport company, it catches a passing man, hitherto quiet and cushy, which has probably done on purpose to make it even more rage (the lady was suffering from self-centeredness and self-absorption) of light a cigarette at least 20 meters away. And now is the entire Earth who has conspired to prevent them from going home early, the gods came together and the Devil got into the game. The bus of doom, which incidentally is still driven by the same driver who is incompetent to proceed to express this decision later to save traffic, is always, always, always late, every day of all weeks of every month of the year.
us give this brave lady that the bus was actually late and it was raining (just a little, we must remember). While Rihanna was still singing''Under my umbrella in my head''a duet with Garou (which is strange may happen in the brain), the bus arrived. And oh how nice lady exclaim''Finally! He will know the way I think this driver! .'' She enters the bus, first it goes without saying, leant on the edge of the door and asked the driver why he was late again. Raising his eyes to heaven, the driver says he is new on this bus route and there was a traffic jam. Not knowing what to say, the nice lady turns around and sits down muttering.
Council to all those who, like this lady have no chance in life: stop you complain, we had your problems and cure then you get angry ....
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