On Monday there was an altercation.
I was accompanying a friend and her two daughters on a little outing to get the girls some fake ID on Yonge Street,
and as it was going to take about 40 minutes to have the cards made we went up the street to the Ban Mi Boys to grab a sandwich. We sat at a table for four, where it appeared somebody had left a shopping bag, and began to eat our lunch.
A man, short, round and about 10 years older than me, told us that it was his table and he’d saved it by placing his bag there.
Aggressor: That’s my table you’re sitting at! I saved it with my bag! You have to leave!
My bossy, stubborn, German friend:
NO!!
Me: Well hold on, perhaps you’d like to pull up a chair and sit with us? That way we can all enjoy our lunch and perhaps learn something about one another, too?
Aggressor: NO!! THIS IS MY TABLE!! I WANT MY TABLE!!
My bossy, stubborn, German friend: No, that’s not the way that it works. You can’t save tables. How were we supposed to know that this bag was some sort of magic placeholder for you? We’re not leaving.
Aggressor: YOU HAVE TO LEAVE! IT’S MINE!!
Daughter #1: I’m scared.
Daughter #2: I’m scared, too. Maybe we should just leave?
Me: No, we’re not going to leave. (Looking at the aggressor firmly) Either you can sit with us or you can find another table, but we’re not getting up from our meal to give you our spot.
Daughter #1: You are so cool, Michael.
Me: It’s not about being cool, it’s about doing the right thing.
Aggressor: I WANT MY TABLE, I WANT MY TABLE, I WANT MY TABLE!!!
Me: It’s not your table.
My bossy, stubborn, German friend: Go fuck yourself, old man.
At this point the man, snarling, swatted at my tray, sending it flying into my chest and lap. I was covered in my own lunch. I stood up to my full height and opened my arms wide, “In my heart and mind I have your troubled soul in my full embrace,” and as he was looking at me all confused, I sprayed him with the little bottle of mace I keep on my keychain.
Comments
5 responses to “An Altercation”
You seem to get involved in more than your fair share of altercations.
I can understand such an imbecile not being worthy of a silver bullet, Kemo Sabe, but pepper spray … How undignified!
I was once, and I mean very recently, physically thrown out of a bowling alley by management, so yes, I do seem to get in more than my fair share of altercations.
Ed, I had to protect the people at the table by any means necessary–you just can’t think of dignity ( while covered in grated carrot and little bits of chicken) at a time like that.
Dear Master Murray,
I am at fist amused by your story and then I am deeply saddened.
Just when I was expecting some significant injury or mortal condemnation to befall the stories aggressor, you pepper spray him. What shame, what a waste of release of bottled up anger if you can’t pull out a gun and bring justice to the world.
I understand . . . our gun laws in Canada are horrible.
Still . . . this aggressive person will continue to live and continue to aggrisivate people’s trays at tables. Justice has not been properly served.
If only we had the formidable self defense laws of our proud neighbours . . . ahm neighbors to the south. You could had shot the man point blank and rid this planet of scum. We know this person would not have a gun because they are leaving bags of shit not worthy of being pilfered to save tables. They would not be able to afford guns. Its how balance is brought to America the Beautiful – only the rich can really afford guns.
I’m heading to Watertown next weekend to pick up some duty free books I ordered from Amazon. Lemme know if you want me to pick you up some more pocket mace, or a stun gun or a Glock-9.
Peace,
I.W-C
I too am fist amused.
sincerely, js.