Ode to Vancouver
Hmm. Where to begin. I will begin at the beginning. Someone came into work the other day and I helped them try on cycling helmets. This man finally found a helmet he liked and pointing to it he said,
"I'll take that one." To which I replied,
"You can't take that one, that's the display model."
"No," he continued,
"I want one just like it."
"Oh." I said and then went to fetch one.
Two things were going on here.
1. I was having a laugh at his expense, though no one got the joke but myself.
2. He thought he was doing me a favor by putting up with my stupidity.
This is often the case with my interactions in Vancouver.
Later in the week, I was working as a cashier, and I got to talking to some customers as to how to support the oil barons if he (the customer) didn't take a plastic bag for his purchases. I suggested that he could vote for Stephen Harper. To which his wife replied that they (all the party leaders) were crooks. I agreed, though to be sure, the most untrustworthy face was that of Jack Layton. Distinctly and a bit loudly I said that I didn't trust Jack Layton's mustache. I then looked up from the credit card signature I was examining and looked at the husband, who had suddenly gone quiet in this exchange. I did a miniscule double-take, as I painfully realised that he was sporting a mustache.
There again, I think I was the only one who thought that it was funny.
It's bedtime, now that I am beyond all reasoning. Reason? What reason? Do I need a reason? A raisin perhaps. Yes, that seems more likely.
Labels: The Age of Raisin