Summertime, and the weather is easy

So this heat is making people crazy hey. Yesterday I was on the train minding my own business, trying to chill out in the stifling heat when suddenly an unnatural scream hits everyone. I turn around as fast as anyone to face the danger, and there was nothing there. Just a lot of people staring intently whilst sweating intensely. But what were they looking at? Then the mumbling starts. From this old guy. I thought that maybe he was just the first to speak after that horrific sound, but the mumbling makes it clear that the sound came from him. Such a frail old man. Such a frail old stinky drunk man. What had made him make that noise?

“Sit down” a man says to him in a not unthreatening manner. Just leave him I thought. He’s just old and fucked up by the heat. If you ignore him he’ll give up. Or get funnier. But the guy had been ignoring him and the old man hadn’t given up. In fact he was mumbling more. And threatening. And clenching his fists in preparation. “I can stare at you all night” the old man cries as the sun crashes through the window behind him, making it hard for any one to look at him, but we’re all still staring anyway.

“Sit down” the man says again. As much as everyone on the train is staring at the old guy, everyone on the train are also pointedly not looking at the other man. I look though. He looks mean. He’s got sweat pouring off his brow as if his blood had been boiling for a long time. The old man swings his fist in the air as if it was a punch but his arms aren’t strong enough to fully extend. He hits nothing, but swings up his other hand weakly to hit his fist and make a dull slapping sound. Some threatening mumbling accompanies it. The man grabs him and tells him to shut up, but doesn’t realise how tiny the old man is and throws him to the floor between the seats opposite. The women who are sitting there climb up onto their seats like any elephant would at the sight of a mouse.

The mumbling grows louder and a hand waves around lamely above the seat, maybe trying to help him up, maybe trying to defend him while he’s down. But the mumbling, it’s like shouting now, and the man doesn’t seem satisfied by his victory and is slapping his hands away so as to get a clear blow through. He does. From where I’m standing there is no effect, as the mumbling carries on. The people who are crammed in around this scene aren’t looking any longer. They’re looking towards the door. We’re at the station now, but they haven’t opened, and it’s hot on this train. Really fucking hot. And we’ve been on this train a long motherfucking time.

The man lamps him again and then walks off the trains with the rest of the passengers. The old man scrambles to his feet and chases after him still mumbling. Everyone else continues to breath heavily.

I told my friend that there was a fight on the train. He asked me straightaway “Between an old guy and big motherfucker?”. Common story apparently. The heat makes everyone crazy.