Interview with a homeless guy in a wheelchair at 3am

So we're outside the bar after closing time on saturday and the party wants to rage on. Now in burban life, any burb, whitby or guelph, or wherever, if there is no afterparty and the crowd is still large, everyone tends to hang out in the downtown core wherever a bench can be found until people get so annoyed with the concept that enough leave, leaving an acceptable handful to bring back to a house where other people may or may be sleeping and otherwise couldnt warrant the other 30 people invitations right after last call. Its like social survivor where only the strong insomniatic like contestants survive.

And so, we are hanging out in front of some CIBC where there are cushy benches and just enough of a window between OPP drive byes to smoke quick cannons with a constant paranoid look over our shoulders. All of us are in some sort of a circle when out of the blue, this raggity old guy with a greasey oilers hat and a wifebeater, with one leg and torn one legged jeans to prove it, wheels up in his bad ass wheelchair built for serious off roading and takes a stance right in the middle of this mid morning street party.

Ever the opportunist, aided by my drunken and jackass state of being, I see a perfect opportunity for an informational interview on account of this man is clearly aching for some chat, just as I was aching for an interview with a one legged man in a wheelchair.

The following is a fairly accurate account of the interview I held; seriously some of this guys lines were priceless, in the im a crazy biggot kind of way.

me: Hey there hows it going
guy: like an owl after a rat
me: excuse me?
guy: can I have one of those cigarettes?
me: umm, sure can. need a light
guy: yeah but i only light my own, so dont try any of that dont steal my lighter put in my face bullshit.
me: umm ok. here you go
girl to my right: im the same way, i cant stand when guys light my smokes
guy: yeah and im not gay so its even worse. heres your lighter
me: so what are you doing out tonight
guy: trying to find some coke and look at girls like that. do you have any?
me: sorry cant help you out. you could ask that guy though
guy: you ask him.
girl to my right: hey *witheld* do you have any more yey's?
*witheld*: nope, nights done.
guy: isnt that the fucking shit, well at least I get to look at these broads. I havnt fucked in 3 years.
me:...thats not good.
guy: bet you havnt either; eh ugly.
me: umm, no im doing alright
guy: well fuck you then. *cough*hork*
me: umm, alright. hey can I ask you a what might come off as rude question?
guy: you can ask me whatever you want for another smoke.
me: okay, here you go.
guy: question?
me: what happened to your leg.
guy: figures... I was hit by a plane
me: really?
guy: yeah, in the war. I was working on an air strip in hungary and it was a night landing, and I worked the flag light things you see, and I got stomped on by a plane that missed its landing. my fault really.
me: geez and so they amputated the leg?
guy: no, its still there
me: huh
guy: can I have another smoke?
me: uh sure
guy: youre a nice kid, ever been in the army?
me: uh no?
guy: bet youd get fucked a lot in the army.

and then out of nowhere the guy puts his chair in high motion and jets forward jets off the curb, bounces on the street, and wheels off through red light traffic between cars, and dissapears into an alley between a late night chinese place and a another bar which im convinced was a dead end alley but couldnt see.

i think we are now the best of friends. even though on the second smoke he kept my lighter.
notes: *thats twice in three weeks an old guy has called me ugly. I think because I hang out with excesively attractive women I am more suceptible to verbal abuse from 55 plussers.

: *the lighter sucked anyways

posted by mr. tomas ubik @ Monday, July 18, 2005