7- Trip on the 802 – vol. III

-

It starts raining. A few drops fall on what I have left of my hair, because I have just left the hairdresser… my sister who is my hairdresser thinks I look better with short hair… but I am already missing at least half of it on my skull. I want to take my bus… O.P.S. but the storm is ahead of me. A deluge, nothing less. A lady who arrives with a bang…like a storm…laughs. I'm like, "Hey, she's laughing at me! but no, she asks me with a smile if I have my umbrella, because she would like to take shelter. I feel generous ... She is waiting for the 802, too, 802 which finally arrives! The lady and I line up to get on, but with so many people waiting… it's going to be a sport. I am. She thinks I'm gallant, but no, I don't want to box everyone to make room for me. The woman, we let her pass and we follow her with a look of a husband … like a little dog. A composition role that suits me well. This lady and I are still chatting when a drunken man parks right next to me and burps his beer in my nose. My neighbor is laughing... I'm disfigured by this martyr... No, I won't talk, I'd rather die. But it stinks. Then a first stop is the exchange of seats. Those who are standing sit down and those who enter are standing…it is the ritual. But where things go wrong is when there start to be empty seats. It's who gets the best seat. The show begins. Madame x in the rear double seat crosses to the other side for a single seat. She leaves a seat by the door to mourn which is taken over by a guy sitting on the back wheel who is taken over by a girl sitting in front who doesn't like people in front...a lady disgusted with her neighbor takes the seat alone then my drunk guy takes the free seat because I stomp on his left foot. My neighbor says to me: I think we'll put on some music, it'll be funnier then we'll stop it when the bus leaves. Unfortunately, she arrives at her destination and I have to stop a little further, but I would have liked to say to them: "Let's swing our companies. »

Commentaires

Publier un commentaire

Messages les plus consultés de ce blogue

10- Farewell Montrealers-Montrealers

-
I have already been in love with the city of Montreal both by the city and by its inhabitants. But that time is behind since Montrealers believed that he could seize the rest of Quebec to achieve their social project. Many times, Montrealers shouted from the rooftops that the rest of Quebec understood nothing of Quebec and that we had to be evangelized. Poor little me… I have 21 years of schooling and I don't understand… neither does my neighbor. We're going to have to sit down on the school benches to take “comprehension 101” courses. I heard from the spouse of a Montreal sculptor that the weapon of artists was art. Does this mean that the other pros will be able to furnish firearms or bladed weapons. It's disarmingly logical or perhaps a bit gypsy… well… well. Politics, sports, cinema, theatre, shows, television, and so on, have become the “comfortable places” of these pseudo-Montrealers. How can we believe these proselytes of the tabarnak, the stie or the kalice who, aft...
Lire la suite

6- The Quebec Carnival… instigator of the Vuvuzela

-
In the early 1960s, we were all students partying on St-Jean Street in Quebec City during "THE" Carnival parade. We were huddled together on a sidewalk less than 5 feet...ahem...hey guys, watching the parade of "parade floats" and majorette "bodies"...it was really the bodies we were looking at. The perfect spectator's equipment consisted of 2 things… the cane with its energy drink… gin and orange juice… and, I give you a thousand, a vuvuzela… Quebecers and their carnivals are always 40 years ahead. .. But let's be honest, there aren't many spectators who remember this equipment, because the cane and the vuvuzela don't mix well. You'll try to get your cane screamed in your ears with a 130 decibel device when you've drunk your cane. The 5 minutes of soccer that I saw, including the advertisement on the vuvuzela, made me understand why the times of madness on the part of spectators and players. Surely they didn't take their "...
Lire la suite

4- A trip on the 802 – vol. II (my bus)

-
Full of the unexpected and above all of adventure, the 802, my occasional means of transport, is a curious bus route, especially because of its passengers. Women and men, young and old, rich and poor, beautiful (also beautiful, depending) and old (also old, depending) rub shoulders, rub shoulders, look at each other and above all comment on the behavior of others. passengers. The best performances are given between 4:00 pm and 5:30 pm. First, the passengers sweat all day and, if I were racist, I would say some and some, more than others. To believe that we don't have the same "nose"... too easy. Now the best places are in the center. It's like the arena of UFC...for those who don't know, it's about fights where everything is allowed except the blows in the "parts"...Free hand wrestling (to hold on to something), pankration (to get rid of the "gluers") and boxing (to get out through the door or the frame, it depends) are the usual means. But...
Lire la suite