I realized last night that

I realized last night that when people say “it feels good to do something nice”, they lie. They lie really bad. A more correct quote might be “it feels good to HAVE DONE something nice.” There is a large difference. Here’s the story – for those of you that aren’t Catholic, there’s this thing every few years called World Youth Day – this year, it takes place in Toronto. In 1984 the Pope gave a cross to the “children of the World” and they have since been taking turns carting all around the World. Well, inexplicably, said cross ended up in Bolton last night – population few. The decision had been made that a procession would be made straight up Highway 50 (the main drag) from the main Catholic church to the Catholic school on the North Hill (Bolton is basically a big old valley). So they needed volunteers to first help direct cars into the provided spaces, and then to stop other cars from driving on the highway and running down the youth of the World and their big old cross. Being a good boy I volunteered to help the Rotary group do this. So I slapped on my cool construction guy vest with the reflectors, parked cars, then moved over to a plaza along 50 housing a Petro Canada.

Oh, and then the fun began.

It quickly became apparent to me what happens when you take all the Christians and put them on the street walking a cross. Why, the evil, foul, and generally objectionable people are all that remains. Apparently. You name it, I was called it.

Irate Driver: “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET MY F–KIN’ PIZZA IF I CAN’T GET ACROSS THE F–KIN’ ROAD?!?”
Rick: “Well, you could park your car, walk across the street and get the pizza, then walk back to your car.”
Irate Driver: “ARE YOU F–KIN’ KIDDING ME!?!”
Rick: “No.”
Irate Driver: “FOR F–K’S SAKES!!!!”
Rick: “Ok.”

Irate Old Man: “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET HOME?”
Rick: “You can cross downtown at King or south at Mayfield – take Coleraine along the back to get there.”
Irate Old Man: “BUT I JUST NEED TO GET THERE!!!” (pointing frantically across the street)
Rick: “Well, I guess you’ll have to drive there or there, eh?” (pointing north at King, south at Mayfield)
Irate Old Man: “NEVER HAVE I SEEN A PARADE THAT WOULDN’T ALLOW YOU TO CROSS A STREET!”
Rick: “Can’t say that again, can ya?”
Irate Old Man: “THIS IS THE STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN!!”
Rick: “Sorry, Sir, next year I’ll bring my cross somewhere else.”

Irate Young Girl: “HOW DO I GET HOME?”
Rick: “You can cross downtown at King or south at Mayfield – take Coleraine along the back to get there.”
Irate Young Girl: “WHAT!!!!!????”
Rick: “You can cross downtown at King or south at Mayfield – take Coleraine along the back to get there.”
Irate Young Girl: “YOU MEAN I CAN’T JUST F–KIN’ DRIVE ACROSS THE F–KIN’ STREET?”
Rick: “Not here you can’t. At King or Mayfield you can.”
Irate Young Girl: “FOR A F–KIN’ CROSS!!! THIS IS THE F–KIN’ STUPIDEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD!!!”
Rick: “So I guess you’re not interested in waiting to see the cross then, eh?”

*sigh*

I phoned my Mom afterwards and said she wasn’t very popular around town seeing as I was a mother-this and a son-of-a-that. I was hit by three car bumpers of cars who were rather insistent on crossing the street, regardless of the fact that I was between them. I had one guy get on the highway so I got in front of him and told him to get back in the lot. He yelled a bit and I said sorry, nothing I can do, they give me this vest and now I wield supreme executive power upon the entire city (“MOOHAHAHA!!!”) and he said “ok, I’ll go back”. So I moved out of the way and he quickly ripped across the street anyways. But thank God for small victories, as one of the patrolling police cars quickly sped over to nab him as he entered the other plaza. :)

Long-winded but I had to vent I suppose. What a day. I’m happy to say that my parents and I closed the experience off with a most excellent dinner at The Angry Tomato – the spicy corn chowder and chicken creole were dead-on, props to the Chef.

Friday quiz, already delayed, I’ll do later tonight.

Cheers,
Rick Jessup