評論
打印
Who does it look like I'm talking to? The driver motioned me back. "That'll be fifty cents. This transfer is valid only if you catch the bus at Seventy-ninth Street." Technically he was, of course, correct; such a regulation certainly exists in a book somewhere.
“你看我像是跟誰說話呢？”司機招手示意我回去。“請付50美分。這張轉乘車票你只有在79街上這趟車時才有效。”當然嚴格說來，他是對的：某本規章的某個地方肯定有這么一條規則。
But I get on here all the time, I protested.
“但我一直在這兒上車呢，”我抗議道。
I don't give a damn what you do. Fifty cents or get off the bus.
“我不管你平時怎么做的。50美分，要不就下車。”
So I gave him his half a buck -- and a good deal more than that in abuse. "You know," I said, taking a seat behind him, "it's people like you who give this city such a lousy reputation. What's the difference if I get on here -- especially on a day like this?"
于是我給了他半美元——還有更多的罵罵咧咧。“你知道嗎，”我在他身后找了個位置坐下來說道，“就是你這樣的人讓這座城市背上了惡名。我在這個站上車又有什么區別嘛——尤其是在這種天氣？”
There was no response. Indeed, with the wall of plastic between us, I was not even sure he'd heard. "You son of a bitch," I muttered.
他沒有回應。事實上，我們之間隔了塊塑料板，我甚至都不敢確定他有沒有聽到。“你個狗娘養的，”我嘟噥了一句。
He had heard. A moment later a huge hand was on my shoulder. "One more word from you and I'm throwing you off. I don't have to take that from no one."
他聽到了。過了一會兒，一只大手搭在了我的肩膀上。“你再說一個字，我就把你扔下去。我才不吃這一套呢。”
For the rest of the ride I reserved my comments for the elderly gentleman beside me. I said that I hoped I had ruined the driver's day.
一路上，我向坐在身邊的老人傾瀉著我的抱怨。我說但愿那司機一天都不舒服。
He smiled benignly. "That's not a very nice sentiment," he said.
他慈祥地微笑了。“這情緒可不太好吧’”他說。
Why shouldn't I feel that way? He's ruined mine.
“為什么我不能這么想？他把我這一天都給毀了。”
