Our stifled giggles erupted from our clasped mouths as Mark and I looked at each other. We looked away from each other to laugh even more in our attempt to avoid more attention to us on the public bus. We were on our way to the entrance of the Old Town of Dubrovnik from the out-of-town bus station where we were dropped off after our arduous bus journey from the island of Korcula.
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So why were we giggling like a pair of naughty schoolgirls?
The public bus was packed to the seams and, with our backpacks, we had to stand up, wedged in, and surviving from getting smashed on the side of the bus holding a finger on a bus post. However, I became a little annoyed at the old guy in front of me who didn’t make any attempt to hold on and kept bumping into the woman in front of him. She kept turning round to stare at him with a disgusted face.
But as the old guy lost his balance and bumped into my front rucksack. He was much smaller than me so I was able to peer across his shoulder and there lay the source of the giggles.
Let’s say that he shouldn’t have been wearing tracksuit bottoms. There was definite length of a mound around the groin area. Yes, sire, he had a raging hard-on and it was all on show.
My head jolted up in amusement and I met the eyes from Mark to gesture him down subtly with my head. He couldn’t understand what I was on about until he was thrown against the randy old man’s side. Apologising profusely, his words trailed off as he saw and he looked at me in surprise.
That’s when we started giggling.
As we finished our first bout of laughter, the bus stopped to allow more people on and thus the bus became even more packed. Unfortunately for the two new women who got on, they were stood in front of the old man, their backs to him.
To our Mark and mine’s horror, the randy old man moved closer and wiggled his hips. The women soon noticed, look down and recoiled in disgust. One of them smacked him and at the next bus stop, they got off.
It was pretty disgusting. I think the old man just rode the buses to get his kicks off.
He kept doing this several times until to the point when I grabbed his small rucksack and held him there before pushing him off at our bus stop in front of the city walls of Dubrovnik.
As he scampered off into an alleyway, I remarked to Mark this:
‘Dubrovnik is meant to be one of the most romantic places in Europe ever. Did we get that impression when we arrived? No.
All we had was a dirty old man with a raging hard-on.
I think Dubrovnik is going to surprise us with ways I’ll never think of.’
Oh, Dubrovnik. You certainly did.
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