Pros and Cons

A couple of weeks ago, we went to a downtown restaurant. As we were leaving the busy restaurant, we were approached by a guy in a hardhat.

Hardhat: Excuse me. Do any of you have a cell phone I could borrow? My ^%$ truck just got stolen, with all my tools in it.

Me: Uh, yeah. Sure. Here. (hands over cell phone)

HH: Thanks. I'm from Brandon, but this is a local call, okay. I'm just calling my supervisor. (dials) This is some &*&^ place you've got here. I've been waiting three hours for the police, but they said they have eight cars a day stolen in this &*^& city. %$%#$. My wallet was in the truck too. $#$#. He's not there. Just voicemail. Look, do you have $13 for the bus back to Brandon, or I'm going to be stuck here.

Me: Uh, geez, I'm sorry. I have nothing on me. (shrugs. walks away.)

Questions for discussion:

1. Who does construction on Sunday night?
2. Was it a coincidence that he was hanging around outside a restaurant that was having a little bit of construction done?
3. Why hadn't he already asked the restaurant if he could use their phone, if he had been standing there for three hours?
4. Why did he need $13, if a one-way ticket to Brandon is in fact $31.15?
5. What came first, the hardhat, or the plan?

-thanks to kelly for the story

This is Canada, the FBI have no jurisdiction here.

Paranoid Man: I'd like a comment card, right now.
Library Worker: Okay...
PM: They are keeping a secret file on me on the 3rd floor. They know my name and all my information.

At this point he grabs the comment card, takes out a marker and begins making long strokes, scribbles and dots - nothing that resembles the English language.

PM: I'm writing this in hieroglyphics. Only the FBI and one retired cop in Winnipeg know how to read this.
...

He'll be in later today.

-overheard at the millennium library

Part 2: A few weeks later

Read Part 1


I am stationed at the public service desk in the downtown office building where I work. I glance up and notice B.G. approaching, smiling benignly at me. For a second I assume I'm hallucinating, and then I think, "oh my god, he's found out where I work, and now I'm going to die."

B.G. (apparently failing to recognize me): Good afternoon, sir!
Me (trying to make myself as bland and unmemorable as possible): Uh, hello...
B.G.: I wonder if you had a chance to try the muffins I brought around earlier?
Me (completely thrown): Sorry, I hadn't heard about any muffins.
B.G.: Well, you really must try one; I just baked them myself this morning.
Me: Oh, really?
B.G.: Yes indeed. Now I wonder, sir, if by any chance you were at all acquainted with the late Mr. Burton Cummings? (He doesn't actually say Burton Cummings. He mentions the name of a prominent local man, considerably younger than himself, who to the best of my knowledge is still very much alive.)
Me (uncertainly): I know him by reputation...
B.G.: Well, as you seem like quite a nice young man yourself, I feel there is something I would like to share with you. (He takes a deep breath, and sighs.) One of the greatest satisfactions of my life has been that I was able to be of some comfort to him in the days of his final illness. He was such a lovely person! Such a talent!
Me (flabbergasted): Well, that's ... uh ... very nice! You know, I think I'll go and see if there are any of those muffins left.

I scurry away, and as the end of my shift is mercifully near, manage to spend the
remainder of it in hiding.



-thanks to j.d. for the contribution

Part 1: In the Vomitorium

This story is a two-parter involving the same person. Part 1 takes place in the bus shelter attached to one of Winnipeg's more dubious theme attractions which I'll refer to as The Vomitorium.

It is unseasonably cold, and the huddled masses in the shelter are trying not to inhale the reeking, bile-scented air. It is the end of a long working day for me, my blood-sugar has completely crashed, and I am extremely cranky.

B.G. (making his entrance like an old-time Vaudeville performer): How many people here know me? I'm B____ G____, the radio celebrity!

To my surprise, several people actually recognize him. Afterwards, a bystander explains to me that B.G. has made several appearances on a local talk-radio show. Later, I am curious enough to phone the station, where one of the staff rather sheepishly confirms that B.G. is indeed a semi-regular if self-invited guest

B.G. (basking in the adoration and lighting a cigarette): I know folks don't always like the stuff I do, but I'm too old to care. If they say anything about it, I just give 'em s**t!
Me (feeling brave because I am half his age and twice his size): I don't care who you are; you can't smoke in here.
B.G.: And who's going to stop me?
Me: I am.

I lunge toward him, snatch the cigarette out of his mouth,toss it on the floor, and grind it out with my shoe.

B.G.: That's it! You just assaulted me!
Me: Whatever! I didn't even touch you.
B.G.: I know all about your kind; you're one of those HOMOSEXUALS! Ihave a gun at home. You better not come back here, or I'll be waiting for you.
Me: Do you realize you have just threatened my life in front of thirty witnesses?
B.G.: It's your own fault. You assaulted me! I'm calling the police!
Me: Be my guest. I'm sure they'll be especially interested in the part where you tell them about the gun.

Continued in part 2.




-thanks to j.d. for the contribution

Meet the Weirdos

Broadway Bizarros

Flameshirt the Shadow Dweller: A creepy old man with (apparently) only one shirt who likes to hang out in the shadows of one of the apartment buildings in West Broadway.
FSD's appearances: 1, 2

Hairy the Dog Man: A greatly bearded, long haired man with one pipe and two toy dogs.
Hairy's appearances: 1, 2

Buster the Disowned Rankin Brother: A cheerful panhandler often seen at Osborne and Broadway, who sings loudly and mumbles incoherently.
Buster's appearances: 1

Osborne Oddities

The Penis Man: A panhandler in Osborne Village who is often accompanied by his very drunk sidekick. Got his name when he claimed that he needed money for a penis reduction.
The Penis Man's appearances: 1

Yappy the Aggressively Cheerful Woman: A panhandler in Osborne Village who often sat outside Movie Village, and cheerfully (but aggressively (hence the name)) asked passers by: Gotanysparechange? Maybeonthewayout?
Sadly, she passed away in fall, and the city was deprived of a little bit of its colour.
Yappy's appearances: 1, 2

Exchange Eccentrics

Mr. Thirsty: A discheveled looking man in his mid-to-late forties spotted from time to time in the Exchange District.
Mr. Thirsty's appearances: 1, 2

Distinctive Downtowners

B.G.: A frail,intense-looking man of around 80 whose initials really are B.G.
B.G.'s appearances: 1, 2

Miscellanious Mischief-makers

The Pig-Man: A Fort Gary resident whose turned up nose, pointed ears and beady eyes apparently make him resemble a pig. There has been some skeptism expressed in the comments as to the actual existance of the Pig-Man, but the original submitter of the story is adament that it is true.

Bus Crazies

These weirdos deserve a class all by themselves. They defy geographical classification (and alliteration). Ever been on a bus and notice that the person sitting in front of you is talking a little too excitedly? To no one? Ever see someone get into a screaming match with the driver over 5 cents? Then you know who I'm talking about.

Crazy Kids

We used to do this feature where we had children's quotes on weekends. We don't do that anymore, but you can still read the ones that there are from, you know, the past.

The Trike Guy

Rough looking dude with long hair, handlebar mustache, etc, who drives around the city on what is clearly a homemade motertricycle.