Doctor Aziz gave up his seat to a heavily pregnant woman on the train and smiled benignly down at her. She gave a half smile and then read her magazine.
How soon we forget, thought Doctor Aziz as his knees buckled slightly at the hurtling onrush of the train over the points. I have given. I am forgotten. She must be around seven months gone. Another screaming mouth to feed in a world plagued with too much pollution and not enough soul. Another being destined for junk food, junk culture, unemployment and pension shortfall.
The train stopped briefly at Reading and a young man got up to get off. He tapped Doctor Aziz on the shoulder to indicate his seat was free and the Doctor sat with some relief.
The young man watched him closely as he closed the carriage door. Dirty bugger, he thought, staring at her tits like that. She’s six months pregnant if she’s a day.
How soon we forget, thought Doctor Aziz as his knees buckled slightly at the hurtling onrush of the train over the points. I have given. I am forgotten. She must be around seven months gone. Another screaming mouth to feed in a world plagued with too much pollution and not enough soul. Another being destined for junk food, junk culture, unemployment and pension shortfall.
The train stopped briefly at Reading and a young man got up to get off. He tapped Doctor Aziz on the shoulder to indicate his seat was free and the Doctor sat with some relief.
The young man watched him closely as he closed the carriage door. Dirty bugger, he thought, staring at her tits like that. She’s six months pregnant if she’s a day.
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6 comments:
Perhaps only once did someone give up their seat on the Tube for me when I was heavily pregnant. In the other instances, I meekly asked if they wouldn't mind letting me sit, I'd had it. The bidnisman behind his paper would invariably spring up as if goosed by pliers, and spend an anxious moment making sure I was settled before retreating behind the newsprint. It's not fair to just stand there with a pained expression, nursing a poisonous resentment, emanating waves of potential guilt for some poor slob, awaiting my due. As for the lady who offered me her seat - I looked like I'd swallowed a beach ball at that point - she was uncomfortable with my gushing gratitude. So you just can't win. Pregnant ladies are obviously evil.
I became 65 years old only last August, for years young girls have been giving me their seat in the tube. It's true. I swear!..It is VERY embarrassing!
Once, in a crowded tube train, I looked up from my paper and noticed a pregnant woman standing in front of me. I jumped to my feet and offered her my seat, with many apologies about not noticing her condition and all the rest of it. When she sat down, a little sheepish I thought, it was clear from the change in her contour that she wasn't pregnant, but simply tubby. I then had to stand over her for ten slow stations, trying to be somewhere else.
I reckon he probably had a peek at her tits too.
I always DO THAT, Paul!
My wife did exactly the same, Barbu!
i don't see why a man would discern between looking at pregnancy tits v. regular tits. in fact, they may be much plumper and inviting, nourishing even.
just sayin.
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