There was this old gentleman who seemed gentle and shy. I didn’t register more at first, because I had things of my own to think of. It wasn’t a people watching moment. Later I saw him again in an unsettling situation.
He must have had dementia. Somewhat prematurely. He looked 75 at most.
There was a woman accompanying this man. She was one of those types children’s literature is full of – the strict aunt who knows best what’s proper conduct and goes about trying to shape everyone accordingly. No resistance, no nonsense and very little gentleness.
The old man wanted to use the bus toilet. He had opened the door and was about to enter it, but his companion lady interfered and told him that the bus is stopping now so he can use the toilet in the petrol station (like all the other people with the same need had). He resisted, he feared he would miss the bus if he goes there. The woman said the bus will wait. They argued. Briefly verbally. Then, as he continued resisting, like a child rather than an adult, she started to forcefully pull him out of the bus, shake him and attempt to drag him to the petrol station toilet. In response, he clung to the door handle of the bus. She was very angry and frustrated, and he was resistant and scared like a little boy. It was….disturbing and unjust.
I wanted to interfere. It was very hard not to interfere. Only my shyness stopped me.