On the Offensive

That last post reminded me indirectly of a story. This would have been back during my first year in Calgary. I’d only been in the city for a few months, so I was still looking for full time work. I signed up for a temp agency since I can type like a demon fiddles in Georgia, and the next day got a job with Shaw Cable. Now generally, this was one of the worst jobs I’ve held. And for anyone in Western Canada, just the fact that it was for Shaw Cable should make that self-explanatory. But it was something like $12 an hour and still gave me enough time to look for permanent work during the day.

As a result of the strange hours, I was often riding the C-Train back into the city late at night. On one of those trips, two old drunken bums stumbled on board and sat directly across from me. I sighed, since up until that point, the ride had been urine free. The downtown core of Calgary is linked by a "free-fare zone" for the C-train, which is cool, but the old drunks sometimes take advantage and ride up and down 7th avenue to stay warm.

I settled back into the regular transit stare at the window across from me, fascinated that my reflection somehow looked better in a subway window than it does in my bathroom mirror. Suddenly one of the drunks, weaving back and forth, hollers at me, "What’na hell you lookin at?" I realized I had been staring at the window above his head. I shrugged and said, "Nothin," realizing as I did, that had I been looking at him this answer would have been quite clever. "You wanna go? Is that it?" he yelled at me, attempting to stand up and failing. I explained that I clearly did not want to go, while simulataneously trying to judge how far it would be to the next stop.

Suddenly the other man jumped into action, grabbed his friend and shook him. "What the hell are you doin?" he shouted in his face, "are ya tryin to screw everything up?" He turned to me across the aisle, and with a gesture of supplication said in his gravel racked voice, "Noooo Offence Meant" and then repeated, "No offence meant" I nodded, and he turned back to his friend. "You don’t understand the world man," he said, "You think everything’s going to go your way, you think life’s all a bunch of fawkin roses!" I highly doubted that this was exactly what the man thought of his life, but his friend continued, "But someday, everything’s gonna be shit, and this guy..." he said, jerking his thumb in my direction, "this guy ain’t gonna be there to help you." They looked in my direction, and the only thing I could think of doing was shaking my head solemnly. "You see!" "Ok, ok," said the now calm drunk, "I’m sorry." "What!" shouted his adamant friend, "You call that an apology!" Then he quickly turned to me and once again extended his hands, patted the air as if he were telling an entire roomful of people to calm down, and said again, "Nooo Offence meant… no offence meant." Then he turned his attention back to his friend, "You see this guy (me again), he’s going to be famous (really?), he’s going to be filthy rich (sounds good), he’s going to be down there in L.A. or Hollywood or Reno making a fortune (Reno?), and he’s not going to be there to help you out, he’s not going to give a damn about you. That’s how the world works! It’s the circle of life, Man! You were rude to this guy, now he’s going to be rich and you’ve got a whole mess a shit coming your way!" I really didn’t follow this logic path, but his once belligerent friend seemed spellbound. "Ok," he said, "I’m sorry I was rude." "That’s ok," I said. For good measure, the drunk philosopher king turned to me once again, "Nooo Offence meant" he crooned, "… no offence meant."

The original rude drunk seemed to forget about the whole thing immediately, he looked around and asked his buddy something about where they were getting off. His friend looked pained and immediately turned to me with his hands out, "Nooo offence meant… no offence meant." By this time, I was baffled and trying my hardest not to laugh. A couple got on the train carrying a lamp from The Bay department store. "Hey, Nice Lamp!" shouted the drunk. I knew what was coming. His pal jumped into the middle of the train, threw his hands out desperately, patted the air and said, "Nooo offence meant… no offence meant." I snorted into my gloves and tried to turn the laughter into a coughing fit.

Finally I reached my stop at the far end of the free-fare zone. And of course, this was also my drunken friends’ departure point. When the preaching drunk realized I was behind them at the doorway, he threw his friend roughly against the wall, gave me a quick maitre d’ bow and gestured that I should get off first. I stepped off, and started walking home. I looked back and saw them staggering on the platform, and in the distance heard the drawn out shout, "Noooo Offence Meant….."

None taken… none taken.