[col-sect][column]I can’t fucking believe this. I’m on the bus on my way in to work; it’s Monday at 8:20am and I can hear the conversation between the two guys sitting behind me. At first as I picked out the odd phrase, it sounded pretty boring and I was actually thinking how strange it was for two men to be having what seemed to be a forced and dry conversation. Usually when faced with nothing funny or interesting or relevant to say, (most) men will just not talk and not feel the need to fill the void with mindless chatter. Unlike women. Who I am guessing use language for a broader and more diverse array of reasons. Reasons that appear to lack any clear objective.

Anyhow, so a few seconds after actually over-hearing a few consecutive sentences, this very familiar feeling is starting to dawn on me. And oh no. Oh yes. The fucker! Explanation: Two weeks ago I was on this same morning bus, sitting in the same seat and the same two guys were sitting directly behind me. And at that time, fucker-one was was describing to fucker-two every graphic detail of some hunting accident. His hunting accident. He was shot. It’s all coming back to me now. And now that I’m clued in that it’s the same two guys, I realize as I hear words like “forest” and bullet” and “shot” and blood” that he’s retelling the same story! Asshole. It’s Monday morning on a crowded bus and he’s graphically redescribing the whole episode. [/column][column]No detail was missed: from when he got shot in the leg, to dragging his ass through the woods and then across the ditch, to presenting his bloody body to the front steps of some house, to dripping blood all over this poor older couple’s house, to the size of the chunk of flesh that the doctor removed. This is his favourite part, by the way, because he dwells on the meat and the blood. Full description of everything that went down at the hospital. “And the doctor ran his finger along the entire nerve.” and “It’s not like the westerns where they just drill a tiny hole and remove the entire bullet. This was like all mangled. The bullet hit the bone and then just totally destroyed everything nearby.” On and on the entire ride from where I got on on Montroyal all the way downtown to Georgia and Burrard.

I have never been mankind’s greatest fan, and I fully admit that I’ve always been easily irritated by people and their ways and their sounds, but even by normal standards, having to listen to this was intolerable. I had to change seats actually. What the hell has to be wrong with you such that you’d think that graphically describing your bloody hunting accident is acceptable bus talk. At 8 something in the morning. More than once.[/column][/col-sect]

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