Strange Characters

I feel like I’m an observant person. Since moving to Victoria, I’ve seen some pretty colorful folks. Some of them I see every day! Or at least once a week. These “characters” set the scene in my normal, everyday life in Victoria. It’s like I’m Belle from Beauty and the Beast, “There goes the baker with his tray like always–the same old bread and rolls to sell. Every morning just the same, since the morning that we came to this poor Provincial town…” I guess our town isn’t poor, but it is part of a province! I can relate to Beauty and the Beast on a whole new level now.

But seriously. Where’s the baker? I’m starving.

Lets start with Crazy Dachshund Guy. This guy has 3 dachshunds and he walks them all at the same time. Thus making him “crazy”. He’s pretty hard to miss. He never trips over his pups. It’s surprising how graceful he is, really. I would never own a dachshund solely because I cannot, for the love of all that is holy, figure out how to pronounce the word dachshund. I usually say docks-hund really fast and hope that no one calls me out on it. Apparently it’s pronounced dahks-huunt. I guess I’m not that far off. It still gives me anxiety so I just call them wiener dogs and hope that I don’t offend anyone. Plus, I get the pleasure of bringing the word wiener into the conversation.

The Moka House Coffee Crew and The Starbucks Coffee Crew. I’m referring to the people who sit outside of these coffee shops and people watch. I’m almost certain that these people have no jobs. They will eyeball you for the duration that it takes to walk past each establishment. We all know Starbucks is a chain that everyone loves. People at SBucks love to judge. People at Moka House are even worse. They want people to see them judging you. At least people at Starbucks are secretive…kinda. Basically, in Victoria you’re either a Moka House-r or a Starbucks-er. I play both sides. Can’t everyone just get along? Moka House is definitely the worst though because they have an awning to sit under and judge passersby even when it’s raining. You can’t beat that.

Schizophrenic “The World Is Ending” Guy. Twice a week this guy stands on the corner of our street covered in signs that casually mention the Earth being melted by lava. Where is this lava coming from? All of his signs have to do with either fire or lava. I think he does a lot of research because he always cites a Bible verse at the bottom of each one. “The Universe will be engulfed in flames. John 10 :2” Ummm, Crazy Face? I’m pretty sure John didn’t say that. He shouts at cars a lot. Whenever I see him , I make sure to walk to the other side of the street. If I didn’t, I’d probably end up getting in a Bible fight with him. Which would consist of me, throwing a Bible at his head.

“I’ll show you fire” Leviticus 21:5

Prance-y Jogger Guy/Girl. There’s this jogger that literally trots around like he’s a Lipizzan stallion. I’m 75% sure it’s a guy. Short hair, petite, really tan. It could go either way. Let’s just pretend it’s a guy because it’s funnier that way. He prances a lot. I study his method whenever I see him “jogging”. And by study, I mean that I drop whatever I’m doing and literally stare him down. It’s fascinating. Paul and I have tried to re-create the majestic way in which he dances along, but it cannot be copied. It’s almost too perfect. Also, it seems to work as a really good weight loss program since this guy has little to no body fat. I would try his approach, but I have this thing called dignity. And not to mention a reputation to uphold.

Those are just some of the characters that I see everyday. It’s perfectly normal to be jealous of my life.

Gym Rats

I’m not taking about people who are at the gym all the time chiseling their bods. I’m talking about people who are at the gym that actually look like rats. By now you all know that I love observing, people watching, judging, whatever you wanna call it. The gym is an awesome place to do this. However, you run the risk of being judged yourself because you’re most likely sweaty and/or dead from doing the StairMaster for 15 minutes.

Now that I think about it, the StairMaster is the greatest machine to workout on if your into people watching, like myself. It’s almost like your on a tower, high above the rest of the common gym folk. Most of my spying happens whilst climbing 61 flights of stairs.

One day, a yoga class had just finished and as the people emptied out of the room, they were all carrying their mats and their shoes. They paraded across the room in their bare feet. Is that really necessary? I don’t want to see your sweaty feet during my workout. How hard is it to put shoes on? I’m pretty sure yoga isn’t the most grueling of workouts (unless it’s hot yoga, in which case God bless your soul).

Ew put those away, you psychos.

Later in the day this guy was working out on the elliptical in front of me. I don’t know what kind of look he was going for, but it wasn’t cute. I’m going to start at the top and work my way down. He had jet black greased back hair that went back to his neck. I don’t know what was holding his hair in place–grease, hair gel, sweat?–but not one hair was out of place. He had on a black wife-beater TUCKED into a bathing suit. If there’s one thing that’s super unattractive, it’s men working out in swim trunks. Ew okay I hate saying swim trunks. A bathing suit. Like, why? What is the reasoning? You can literally buy running shorts anywhere! Go to Wal-Mart.

It gets even worse though. He was wearing black socks pulled up to the middle of his calf and black boots that looked like they had a bit of a heel. That’s your outfit to workout in? That’s what you choose? After he picked his wedgie right in front of me, I decided to stop observing because there’s not much else to see after that.

Right up there.

On a completely different day, I was running on the treadmill, minding my on business when I see this very large man. He’s wearing a bright red shirt with a maple leaf on it, tucked into dress shorts (I don’t know how to describe them–like nicer khaki shorts?) with suspenders. He gets on the machine next to me, and I’m just chillin’ listening to my tunes when I almost jump off of my machine. He made the loudest, HEYYYYHOOHOOO noise when he saw two of his buddies. He bellowed. There is really no other word to describe what he did. Everyone in the gym was staring at him as he hugged his friends, drenching them in his sweat. At this point I was glancing around the room to make sure my friend saw what I was seeing. She did. We were frightened.

His friend got on the treadmill on the other side of me and the proceeded to talk across me as I was trying to run. I punched my emergency stop button and got off the machine. The YMCA is a great place to work out if you can dodge the creeps. Looking back, I should have taken the spray bottle that’s used to clean the machines and just sprayed both of them. Next time….next time.

Judgement Day

If you haven’t noticed, judging is one of my favorite pastimes. Sometimes I just can’t help it. If I’m in a location where there’s abundant people-watching, I’m not going to look down at my soda and pretend nothing is happening. Some of my fondest memories have occurred on park benches just observing others. And then making fun of them in one way or another. Not to their faces obviously, that’s way too gutsy. And cruel. But, I guess you’ve gotta be cruel to be kind (in the right measure).

When Paul and I were at the hockey game, we were looking around our area, checkin’ out what kind of motley crew we had to deal with for an hour or so. We made a great sighting. There was this guy, a couple rows in front of us, who had 9 fingers. Fingers are so precious. Could you imagine missing one? It was the ring finger on his left hand. So I guess technically it doesn’t get that much use. Unless you’re married. But I have to wonder how he lost it. I thought about going up to him and asking “Hey mister, how’d you lose your finger?” but then there’s the chance of being judged by the person that you were judging, and that’s just the worst. So I just continued to glance over nonchalantly for the rest of the game. If I had to guess, I would say that he lost it in some kind of shop class. But then how would he still have his pinky? Either shop class or gangrene.

I was walking around the other day, just minding my own business, and then I saw I guy with a fanny pack. I don’t even like to see girls wear fanny packs. I used to have this roommate from Maui and she always wore a fanny pack but she made it look so cool. I think she wore it ironically though, and at that time I didn’t really understand the beginning of hipsters. I just thought she was being cool and unique. Now she’s a lesbian I think. Ahh so cool! Anyway, guys that wear fanny packs are weird. Just don’t. Carry a man-purse or something. Fanny packs just add extra girth to you. I remember when I was at Disney World in the late 90’s, I wore a fanny pack with a tamagaochi key chained to it. Stylin!

Lastly, at the mall I saw what I thought was a man with a mullet holding a baby. It was a woman. Women should not have mullets. Kind of like how men should not wear fanny packs. More importantly, women with mullets should not breed. Poor little future mullet-ed baby. There are so many ways to cut your hair. Or just go into a salon where you will guaranteed not walk out with business in the front and a party in the back. Yikes.

Stuff like this makes the idea of not leaving my house sound so amazing.