Something only seen in movies.
This was bizarre. Amazing. Crazy. Un peu dégoutante.
I was on the metro. The train was full and I was leaning against the back of a set of seats reading. A man, visibly drunk entered the train. He was probably in his 40's but was he so dissipated he looked 60. If you ride the Brussels metro you know that the drivers stop and start violently; holding on is crucial. The man steadied himself into a freestanding position next to the pole but didn't grab onto it. Maybe he didn't know but more likely it was because he was so out of it. At the next stop, on cue, the train slammed to a halt. The drunken man fell forward like a domino. Pow! He smashed face-first onto the floor at my feet. Within seconds a pool of blood seeped in all directions from under his face. I had to take a step back to keep it from getting in all over my boots. It was like being in cinema 360 or whatever, where you are 'in' the film. No one reacted, of course; it’s Brussels. The man had to be in excruciating pain but he was drunk and that was lucky for him. I helped him to his feet. Blood poured down his face, over chin and dribbling onto the front of his shirt jacket. I handed him a wad of tissues from that I quickly grabbed in my bag. I had to guide his hand to hold them over his nose. He was belligerent and his eyes burned into mine as I insisted more pressure to slow the bleeding. At the next stop I helped him off the train and to a nearby bench to sit down. I wasn’t even touching him at that point but he still tried to swat me away. His trajectory was so skewed that he whacked the back of hand against the hard tiles of the wall behind us. He yowled and tried to focus 'evil eyes' at me but he was crossed eyed from the alcohol. Soon two STIB (Something Transportation Intercommunaute Brussels) officers arrived, acting like what else, reality TV cops. The drunken-bleeding man behaved even worse with them. We were in the station closest to my home so I stood up and headed toward the exit as they approached us. Neither of them called after to me, it must have been obvious the man and I weren't 'together.' The officers were speaking to him with a civil tone. One of the officers asked the man for his identity card. His response was swatting at the space between where he was sitting and where they were standing. I watched this as I ascended the escalator. One of the officers began speaking into his radio. I knew that this man was eventually going land himself into trouble. Maybe I should have, but I didn't want to wait around to find out or to witness anymore 'scenes'.
Hold on when you are on the metro. And carry tissues.
I was on the metro. The train was full and I was leaning against the back of a set of seats reading. A man, visibly drunk entered the train. He was probably in his 40's but was he so dissipated he looked 60. If you ride the Brussels metro you know that the drivers stop and start violently; holding on is crucial. The man steadied himself into a freestanding position next to the pole but didn't grab onto it. Maybe he didn't know but more likely it was because he was so out of it. At the next stop, on cue, the train slammed to a halt. The drunken man fell forward like a domino. Pow! He smashed face-first onto the floor at my feet. Within seconds a pool of blood seeped in all directions from under his face. I had to take a step back to keep it from getting in all over my boots. It was like being in cinema 360 or whatever, where you are 'in' the film. No one reacted, of course; it’s Brussels. The man had to be in excruciating pain but he was drunk and that was lucky for him. I helped him to his feet. Blood poured down his face, over chin and dribbling onto the front of his shirt jacket. I handed him a wad of tissues from that I quickly grabbed in my bag. I had to guide his hand to hold them over his nose. He was belligerent and his eyes burned into mine as I insisted more pressure to slow the bleeding. At the next stop I helped him off the train and to a nearby bench to sit down. I wasn’t even touching him at that point but he still tried to swat me away. His trajectory was so skewed that he whacked the back of hand against the hard tiles of the wall behind us. He yowled and tried to focus 'evil eyes' at me but he was crossed eyed from the alcohol. Soon two STIB (Something Transportation Intercommunaute Brussels) officers arrived, acting like what else, reality TV cops. The drunken-bleeding man behaved even worse with them. We were in the station closest to my home so I stood up and headed toward the exit as they approached us. Neither of them called after to me, it must have been obvious the man and I weren't 'together.' The officers were speaking to him with a civil tone. One of the officers asked the man for his identity card. His response was swatting at the space between where he was sitting and where they were standing. I watched this as I ascended the escalator. One of the officers began speaking into his radio. I knew that this man was eventually going land himself into trouble. Maybe I should have, but I didn't want to wait around to find out or to witness anymore 'scenes'.
Hold on when you are on the metro. And carry tissues.
posted by (00) at 1:09:00 AM
