Some Stories

– The music room in my old high school had a couple of side rooms to practice in. A few of us were killing time in one of them one day and we put a sign on the door (the only door, mind you) saying, “Please use other door.” A slightly loopy classmate knocked to come in, and we shouted at her to read the sign. She fell for it.

– My first ‘job’ after graduating university was an internship at a downtown book publisher. I spent a lot of my time dealing with this one bike courier we nicknamed Johnny Anger. Nice enough person, but as often as not he’d come out of the elevator muttering and swearing to himself, and we knew to just let him be. He’d collect or deliver the package and leave without exchanging a word with any of us. This was fine by everyone. One day he was especially agitated. He came in, almost upgrading from a mutter to full-blown audibility, and to this day I appreciate his restraint in waiting to re-enter the elevator and for the doors to close before releasing a long, loud, echoing “FFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” in the company of his own solitude in the elevator shaft. Oh, Johnny Anger. I miss you.

– The first time I lent out my old skis to a friend, they broke. He felt terrible. I couldn’t stop laughing. Then we realized he still had to make it down the hill. He felt less bad. I kept on laughing.

– Waking up from a concussion is a very cool experience; I mean, I could feel my various brain functions rebooting at different speeds. I was all, “situational awareness at 5%…10%…15%… and rising” and “motor function at 5%…10%… still 10%… yeah, we’ll camp out at 10% for bit” and “spinny vision at 100%…90%…85%… and dropping.” Regrettably, my sense of humour was low on the priority list of mental faculties to re-engage, so I spent most of my time telling the campers I was in charge of how I felt totally OK instead of opening with, “Upon reflection, I have decided that the bike jump isn’t safe after all.” Eh, who am I kidding? They wouldn’t have gotten the joke anyway.



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