Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Just another morning in the big smoke
So this morning, heading into work for my second last day ever (but more on that later) when I see a truck trying to turn right onto Bay from the middle lane of Bloor St. I'm trying to figure out why this driver is apparently unaware of the rules of the road when I see that he is being blocked from the curb lane by a taxi which is parked across both the curb and middle lanes. I mutter something about cabbies and their craziness - which is something I know a lot about - and finish crossing the street. Then I see a middle aged man charge from the road into the GAP store on the corner. I assume this is the cabbie. Stereotypes are a bitch, aren't they? I peer into the store, trying to see what the urgent matter was. Did he all of a sudden decide that he simply had to have a new pair of khakis? Or is he looking for help folding sweaters? Seconds later, he comes back out, dragging a young man with him. The two of them are screaming and swearing at each other (though the swearing part is an assumption, as I didn't actually hear them. For all I know, they are just two members of the Loud Talkers Association.) all the while grappling with each other. Then the punches are thrown and the kicking starts. I'm transfixed. I don't quite know what to do. Pretty much everyone standing on this busy Toronto corner in the middle of morning rush hour is stopped dead in their tracks. Then, the young guy breaks free and takes off down the street, with the cabbie in tow. The young guy easily out paces the cabbie, but then a police car comes along, so he decides to charge into a hoity toity store to avoid detection. It works, at least initially, as the cabbie, who finally caught up, looks around in bewilderment at where he could have gone. I keep watching, trying to see what happens next, and then, realizing that my desk isn't going to clear itself, I head onwards to work. As I'm about to head into the building, I notice that the police car is now parked in the middle of Bloor, and the officer is bringing the young man towards it. They stand there chatting for a minute, and then the young man is ushered into the back of the cruiser. When I get inside the building, I turn around to see what else has gone on, but the cruiser is nowhere to be seen. I'm trying to decide if the reason I didn't even try to intervene is because I was so freaked out I just didn't know what to do, or if I'm so used to random craziness that I wasn't even fazed. I don't even crane my neck at the weirdos who scream on the subway anymore. Am I jaded?