Today, while waiting at the walk-in clinic, I had an interesting conversation with one of the other patients. It went a little something like this: Guy (noticing my power wheelchair): Afghanistan? Me: Hmm? Guy: What happened to you? Afghanistan? Me: No. Guy: Cancer? Me: No. Guy: Aids? Me (laughing): No. A little while later ... Guy: Do you drink? Me: Not really. Guy: Heroin? Me (laughing again): No. A little while later ... Guy: Do you drink coffee? Me: Sometimes. Guy: Would you like a small one? Me: No, thanks, I'm good. Guy: Root beer? Me: I'm good. Guy: Cheeseburger? Me: I'm good. Guy: Britney Spears? Me: These were just the highlights.
Is that how that part ended then? I can see why he kept pursuing conversation - you're playing the part of the wild pony, evading his answers, giving him the nervous laugh, running. It must have been like Brokeback Mountain in that office.
I can't remember exactly how that part ended, but the guy was constantly muttering to himself in between our brief exchanges. I think he had schizophrenia or possibly Tourette syndrome.
From The Globe & Mail, here is an excerpt from the Conservative government's new census form. Question 13: Not including abortion, how many unreported crimes did you witness, experience, or hear stories about in the past 12 months? (a) 10 - 20 (b) 20 - 100 (c) I live in Winnipeg
