Category: life

Feeling tired after a long day at school, I walk toward the setting sun. I must run to catch the pedestrian light and I jump to safety just as the countdown reaches zero.

I walk another block to my forlorn vehicle. Everyone else picked up their cars hours ago. I feel anxious to get home. I roll down my window to let some of the hot air out of the Jeep and I’m on my way.

I glance at the oncoming traffic and see my opening. I quickly make my right hand turn, rushing out to catch another green light just down the block.

That’s when I notice you. Your blonde hair is glistening in the setting sun. My gaze immediately settles on your bright blue eyes. You are riding toward the setting sun. You are beautiful, but you look like you’re about to die.

My wheels scream as I slam on the brakes. Your jaw drops and you stare at me like I’ve done something wrong. I wonder what that could possibly be.

“Why are you riding your bike on the wrong side of the road?” I yell out the window.

You don’t respond. Instead, you quickly peddle away. I wonder if you’ll opt for the safety of the sidewalk, but no, you are incorrigible that way. I watch my rear view mirror as you continue to slip past oncoming traffic and out of my life. You are someone else’s problem now.

The man behind the counter explains that he’s going to run to the back to get some more chicken for the small sandwich. I shrug and smile but I’m in a bit of a hurry. I will need to eat and walk if I don’t want to be late. I’m not even sure of the room number.

I watch as people of all shapes and sizes collect their various orders of coffee and tea. The petite blond, the tall brunette, then a skinny guy with braces, they are each in their own world. They take their turn, grabbing beverages while I wait. My fascination with people watching begins to lose its appeal; my mouth waters as I stare at the incomplete toasted chicken sandwich.

Finally, the man with the chicken returns. He throws some bacon on for good measure and it’s complete! I decline a bag. I’m anxious to rip into that sandwich that I’d been thinking about since I left the house.

I unwrap the paper, ready to dig in when suddenly, in a moment of gross miscalculation, half the sandwich falls—it’s much smaller than anticipated and the prospect of recovering it vanishes before the thought is fully formed.

I stand dejected amongst a crowd of disconnected people, bacon, tomato, and chicken strewn out before me.

I will have plenty of time to find my class.

Over the weekend I went to my good friend Duane’s stag in Banff. We were lounging around in a bar sometime after midnight. My friend Niall was sitting beside me in a little love seat, in front of us sat a coffee table and on the other side two ladies were chatting with us. Out of the blue, one of them challenged Niall.

She declared, “I’ll betcha $20 that my friend here can beat you at an arm wrestle.”

I looked at Niall and then back at the girl—she was very tiny. I thought wow, this girl must be tremendously strong or have some kind of trick, because there’s no way she’s going to beat Niall, she’s just too small. He’s not a particularly big guy, but big enough. He’s about my height and weight, which lead me to ponder what this girl was thinking.

We moved some empties out of the way, they set up, a small crowd had gathered. It was over almost as quickly as it started.

Niall kind of shrugged and picked up his cash. I suggested to him that maybe they figured he would buy them some drinks and therefore they wouldn’t really be out any cash. Niall’s response was priceless.

“Fuck that. They can buy their own drinks.”

This weekend I’m in Easyford, Alberta at the Sasquatch Gathering. (Not to be confused with the Sasquatch! Festival.)

Honestly, I’ll be more surprised than you if we actually gather any Saquatches. Sasquatchi?