I see rude people

I am sitting by a large window at Tim’s sipping the dregs out of an empty coffee mug. Outside, it’s a glorious day. The sky is a hue of genuine Alberta blue and the only clouds are a few streaks of high altitude cirrus and vapour trails left by jetplanes. After a couple of days of thunderstorms and overcast skies, people are back in their summer attire – especially the femme. The little bit of Borat in me quietly mumbled “I like – thanks much” a number of times. I’ll have to take the kids out to the beach later today for a few more Borat moments. Once I get home that is! I am stuck here as the mechanic tries to fix the broken window in Monika’s car at the nearby Canadian Tire. I brought my laptop expecting a long wait – everything’s a long wait in Calgary with a labor shortage and all. I am glad there’s no wireless signal to steal – because that forces me to work on my book. But an hour has passed and I can only work on that damn project an hour at a time. After that my ADHD kicks in and the lack of concentration becomes evident in the quality of writing – or so I have surmised. I’ve trained myself to stop at that point and move to other activities. What do I do now?

Those of you who that have read any of my other notes will realize that I do like to rant. It helps release pressure that builds up in my head – and I like my head however ugly it is and don’t want it to explode. Debating is another means of discharging negative energy but hardly do I find anyone tenacious, energetic, and sarcastic (and with a voice loud) enough to persistently hammer me with opposing views. If I wanted to, I could possibly find some targets inside the restaurant here to start a quarrel with. All I have to do is begin to put down Calgary for the shitty driving habits of its inhabitants! Then again there are too many over-sized men, women, and things (let’s not leave out the transgendered) here – and several that look very Albertan. The concern I have is for my personal welfare. When you are in Rome, you be a Roman – not piss on their faces – unless you are just dying to meet the lions. So here I am, thumping on this keyboard, trying to find something to vent about.

What about all the inconsiderate people on the C-Train?

For those not from Calgary, the C-Train is a light commuter train that ferries suburbanites to and from downtown during the morning and afternoon rush hours and rest of the time is largely occupied by bums. Whether I am a suburbanite or a bum on any particular day depends on how much I have had to drink after work. Bum or not, I just cannot abandon my old-fashioned habit of offering up my seat to people that need it more –pregnant women, parents with small children, and the geriatrics. Am I really just old-fashioned or is the average C-Train commuter in Calgary an impolite buffoon?

I am baffled by a simple observation that women are the last ones to offer up seats to pregnant women and ladies carrying small children. If I am standing already (which means I have no seat to offer) and see a woman that is visibly pregnant or struggling to keep her two year old from getting crushed by the crowd, I will bark out “Is there someone here who would like to give up their seat to a pregnant woman (or this mom – whatever the case may be)?”. You would be surprised how quickly most people shift their eyes away from me. I keep looking around the cabin and try to establish eye contact – the idea is to make the first person that looks at me feel terrible shame. It’s a tactic that works every time – and invariably it’s a guy that will offer his seat – never a woman! Come on ladies!!! Let’s give pregnant women and those with little kids a bit of a helping hand! When you are 70 and can’t even put on your own diaper, someone’s kid is likely going to do it for you. Why not be nice to that someone today?

Rant done. Time for my next cup!