A close friend of mine, a rather pretty Arab woman, was sitting in a Dubai-Abu Dhabi bus when she had a “crawling insect” sensation near her right shoulder. She tried to rub it off and got engrossed in her book.
In a couple of minutes, the same feeling recurred and she presumed a cockroach may be the villain. When she tried to rub her shoulder, she realized there was no cockroach, but it was a middle-aged man at the back seat who was the misbehaving scoundrel.
In an impulse, she got up, showered a few blows, spat at him and screamed: “Are you not born with a sister?”
The rogue obviously had not expected such a turn. He got up pleading with her “sorry sister,” before vanishing through the front door. The other passengers did try to hold him, but he made good his escape.
“I am proud of you,” was all I could tell my friend.
In a couple of minutes, the same feeling recurred and she presumed a cockroach may be the villain. When she tried to rub her shoulder, she realized there was no cockroach, but it was a middle-aged man at the back seat who was the misbehaving scoundrel.
In an impulse, she got up, showered a few blows, spat at him and screamed: “Are you not born with a sister?”
The rogue obviously had not expected such a turn. He got up pleading with her “sorry sister,” before vanishing through the front door. The other passengers did try to hold him, but he made good his escape.
“I am proud of you,” was all I could tell my friend.
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