Maurice Chabale

WATCH OUT: maniacs in da city!!!!

OMG, OMG, OW-MAI-GAWD. You'll never guess what has happened to me! Cause I can't believe it myself!!! I'm lost for words. Please, save me from myself! My guts are shocked and choked to their finest!

Let's start from the very beginning. Imagine:

9:40 in the morning. A squalid shuttle  - bus moving forward to the city center area. I'm buried in my tablets, gadjets, phones of all sorts from top to bottom inside there.  I ignore everything & everyone who's in & out every five minutes or so, cause I hate them at the moment, cause I'm the epitome of intolerance to every human creature in the bus when it's f#ing 9:40 am, I'm the most impatient one too! I'm shining 'You better not touch me, b#tch!' glow. 

The only thing I want is to get to my office in the middle of nowhere (I change it on Sundays) after getting the strongest double espresso in Starbucks near my hood as soon as the latest thought about work strikes up in  my head. 

Fancy a guy wearing a shabby grey sportsuit all covered with reels, aged 26-28 y.o, who smells like a piece of sh#t. But the ugliest thing about him is not his smell, but his strange quiet puffing (from his nose). This guy comes in the bus and goes straight forward to the place where I am. He takes his seat right next to me.  I  throw a disdainful look at him (he can't see it thou because of my Ray-Bans). Fine, now I have to smell a f#cking bastard and listen to his weird asthmatic breathing (I strongly doubt it was asthmatic, it was mostly MANIA-tique).

Luckily,  my attention is diverted by a funny picture of my beloved ANNA WINTOUR on BRYANBOY's Instagram.You've always known how to make my day, Bryan! I love you! You're my everything! Wish to encounter you some day!  

The picture makes me giggle slightly. But annoying breathing doesn't stop. 

I take my headphones out of my bag, I plug them in my iPod, and I hear  "And I swear there's a ghost on a silence..." ("Antichrist" by 1975). My personal Apocalypse is nowhere but here in the shuttle-bus! 

The guy nervously scratches his thigh  and touches my jeans like "by chance". I thought it was by chance till this insistent touch repeated again and again. I was about to tell him to stop scratching his d#mn legs or to offer to get him a Sulfidine when his hand slightly moved up my CROTCH. I died! I really died! This was so unexpected, that I'd  lost an ability to breath for a moment. 

I didn't know what to do. I was so shocked. I felt like I'm encaged. I couldn't move a limb on my body. But he did it for myself. He put my hand on his CROTCH. That was my officially proclamed shameless DEATH. 

I stood up and left the bus immediately. I didn't know where to go, just  as far from the bus and the guy as possible. I was about to call somebody up, but I just amelessly played with my phone a little and squeezed it in my right hand as if I wanted to break it. I was trembling like a virgin. 

One would be proud of that INCIDENT, but not MOI! 

Where is glamour when you are picked up by a loser in a miserable shuttle - bus who is brobably infectious or something? Who knows how many people he had already picked up in that desgusting manner which seems like he picks up prostitutes on the Red light streets and how many people he had f#cked after that way. 

I didn't go too far from a bus stop, I turned back and I saw HIM again! God, he might have thought that I had left the bus to give him a blowjob in a secluded place. Oh, no....I started to run away intended to catch a taxi, but there were no cars near at hand. So I caught another bus. You easily might think that there were five-kopeck coins instead of my eyes, that's how round they were, if you saw me at the moment when the guy was in the bus again!!!!! I took a front seat so that he couldn't take a seat nearby.  I sat alone then. After a couple of stops I left the bus rushing to the tube as a vulture. I felt safe a bit then. I took a tram after that, and started to think about the grey sportsuited guy all the way down. I can't get rid of his disgusting harrassment till now! I'm sure if I were in America, I would sue him. But this is Russia, wake up! 

This is becoming dangerous to stay here,  I guess!  Oh, please, I know there is a f#cking crisis everywhere, but please, maybe if there is one normal guy or a lady who will be ready to adopt me cause they're the kindest creatures in the world? 

Forget the previous phrase! Nobody will be ready to adopt an old fugly holder of the Russian passport, cause everybody hates Russia now there in Europe and in the States. 

Please, tell me that you LOVE me. I need your sincere condolescences. You know my e-mail (mchabale@yandex.ru), so hurry up! 

P.S: 

I'm so pleased that surprisingly I've got so many e-mails from New-Zealanders, and people from Australia. I love you, guys!!!! I wish your prosperous green land will become more prosperous in da future. May God save your souls from tough breathing maniacs. And don't use public transport whenever you are!!! It's not FASHIONable!!! I want to get more hi-his from London, France, the Netherlands, Belgium, Spain, italy and many other places on the world map. Whenever you are from, I'll be pleased and thankful to you for your kind words. 

Faithfully yours, 

Maurice Chabale