I was coming home on a bus, today, when a group of family and friends boarded, one of which had Down's disease. We all know that these people have to be treated kindly, because it is not their fault, etc. but this one had a nasty look and was scowling all the time. It is difficult to ascertain the age of these folk but I should say that he was middle aged.
All the others, aunts, uncles, mum and dad plus younger ones, who were probably siblings or cousins, were continually saying, soothingly, "Franco es bueno". They finally got Franco to sit in a seat facing me where I constantly endeavoured to avoid his malicious scowl . Believe me, when I say that I sat like a rabbit, looking out of the window, but with the continual desire to cast a quick glance towards him and every time I did I was to look at an unblinking stare of pure malevolence. The rest of the group were talking amongst themselves happy in the knowledge that France was occupying himself with idle thoughts about what he would like to do to me, for example.
Happily,however, I found that Franco had a more entertaining pastime, much better than tearing innocent Brits to pieces.. He got up and moved to a space for standing passengers in the middle of the bus, where he started to goose all the women around him, women of all ages, his malevolent scowl turning to a lecherous leer There was pandemonium but fortunately, farther away from me. Then all his group got up and started chanting "No, Franco es bueno, Franco es bueno" and they all hustled Franco off the bus and I, thankfully, watched them all surround him and walk away along the street.
All the others, aunts, uncles, mum and dad plus younger ones, who were probably siblings or cousins, were continually saying, soothingly, "Franco es bueno". They finally got Franco to sit in a seat facing me where I constantly endeavoured to avoid his malicious scowl . Believe me, when I say that I sat like a rabbit, looking out of the window, but with the continual desire to cast a quick glance towards him and every time I did I was to look at an unblinking stare of pure malevolence. The rest of the group were talking amongst themselves happy in the knowledge that France was occupying himself with idle thoughts about what he would like to do to me, for example.
Happily,however, I found that Franco had a more entertaining pastime, much better than tearing innocent Brits to pieces.. He got up and moved to a space for standing passengers in the middle of the bus, where he started to goose all the women around him, women of all ages, his malevolent scowl turning to a lecherous leer There was pandemonium but fortunately, farther away from me. Then all his group got up and started chanting "No, Franco es bueno, Franco es bueno" and they all hustled Franco off the bus and I, thankfully, watched them all surround him and walk away along the street.
