The driver stopped the bus in surprise, and everyone waited to see what would happen next.
Who would have thought that she wasn’t initially trying to reproach the man, but simply tactfully wanted to get to know him.
So, imagine a half-empty minibus slowly trudging through the city streets. At the stop, a rather attractive woman, in my opinion, about thirty years old, gets on. I won’t describe her in detail, but I’ll just say briefly—she’s got everything. A man of about the same age jumps on right behind her, carrying a large, apparently heavy bag.
The minibus jerked sharply, and the man, driven by inertia, leaned forward toward the woman and stepped on her foot.
“Why are you acting like an elephant, really?” she said. “Couldn’t you have been more careful?”
The man looked at her guiltily and apologized. But she didn’t let up: “You should have held on!”
And then this man uttered words into which he tried to convey as much pain and sorrow as possible: “Woman, you saw that I didn’t mean to, especially since I apologized to you. What else can I do to calm you down?”
Personally, at that moment, I expected any answer from her, but even I, with my innate cynicism and soldierly rudeness, couldn’t imagine what a woman’s mind was capable of.
So, are you ready?
“What, what, marry me?”
The driver stopped the bus in surprise, and a deathly silence fell on the inside. Even the five-year-old girl sitting behind me, who had been mumbling something the entire way, fell silent. This went on for probably a minute or so. (I should note that there wasn’t even a hint of humor on the woman’s face at that moment.)
And then I couldn’t take it anymore (well, how could they do without me?) and said, “Hey, man, say something. Look, the crowd is waiting.”
He looked at me, then at us all, then turned his gaze to the woman and said,
“I’m getting off at the next stop, are you coming with me?”
“Yes!” she replied firmly.
“Bravo!” I shouted, and the whole minibus, without any command, began applauding.
They did indeed get off at the next stop, and I heard her say, shaking his hand as he exited, “My name is Lyudmila.”
The door closed.
