Swords, me, speaking in capital letters, results.
So I just had myself an interesting few days. I spent one night at my parents' in Pitt Meadows and talked to my mom about how she runs her business and all that she does for her clients and she told me all about how she knows pretty much everyone. I have to prep an entrepreneurship 8-week unit for next semester, so this was interesting to me.
Anyway, Deba had some things for me to take home from her house that I'd left over the last year or so, including a tupperware container I'd been looking for for months, my tattered old Ninjato boken (wooden practice sword), a few odds and ends of clothing and a couple other things. I'd been doing some xmas shopping earlier and left all of that in her car as I thought I'd be getting a ride home, but instead she dropped me off at Scott Road skytrain station and somehow I managed to pack everything I'd remembered to get out of her trunk into my backpack. A ninjato-boken doesn't really fit in any container though, except those designed for it which I do not have.
Anyway, as we were saying goodbye, some transient-looking folk with a dog passed the car and I thought to myself, "Why I imagine that they will make comment of the fact that I am carrying what appears to be a sword." They didn't, and I passed them as I ran to the platform because I heard a train coming. It was for the other direction though and the young man got on after saying his own goodbyes to what I now realized was a woman (she had a hoodie on) and left their dog with her. While I was waiting, I heard a transit supervisor shout "Get off!" in the general direction of the train, and he kept the train from leaving until the young man got off. I guess he hadn't paid, or the supervisor thought by the look of him that he hadn't perhaps.
I wasn't really paying a lot of attention to them until I heard them start to argue. The young man was swearing at the transit supervisor and the two of them were enacting a kind of slow speed chase around the stairwell, climaxing on the young man yelling a lot of unpleasantries I can't recall at the supervisor. Anyway, they went down the stairs, with the transit supervisor escorting the guy out and I figured that would be the end of it. I got on my train when it came and sat down. Then I heard a lot of shouting and what sounded like scuffling from the stairwell and decided just as the doors were closing to get off the train and make sure nothing was wrong. As I rounded the corner, the young man was shouting at the supervisor that he'd hit him in the back of the head and that he could've fallen down the stairs. There was a bit more arguing and I was beginning to regret delaying myself by missing the train, when the young man took a swing at the supervisor. The supervisor punched back but was brought to the ground on the stairs with the transient boy on top of him as they continued to fight. At that point I ran down the stairs and yelled at them to break it up in a tone that I normally save for naughty children, only very loudly that I refer to as "Speaking in Capital Letters" and they separated. I don't think they'd even had a look at me before they broke off, but when they did they saw that I was a large man carrying a large stick shaped like a sword giving them an order from high ground. The decision to obey that kind of order is usually made somewhere in the hindbrain.
Anyway, the boy explained that he'd been hit in the back of the head and I continued in the same tone that if either of them pulled that kind of crap in front of me again that I'd be the one doing the hitting.
And that more or less was that. Kid got escorted off and around the corner and I got on a train. When I got to Commercial Drive to change trains I thought that perhaps leaving the transit supervisor alone with someone who was a) not alone and b) had a dog might've been a bad idea so I used the emergency phone to call in a report that there was bad trouble at Scott, and alerted a pair of policemen about it that I found on the lower level. When I got off the train at my station I left my name with another transit supervisor there, who turned out to be a client of my mom's.
Coincidence and symmetry.
Anyway, Deba had some things for me to take home from her house that I'd left over the last year or so, including a tupperware container I'd been looking for for months, my tattered old Ninjato boken (wooden practice sword), a few odds and ends of clothing and a couple other things. I'd been doing some xmas shopping earlier and left all of that in her car as I thought I'd be getting a ride home, but instead she dropped me off at Scott Road skytrain station and somehow I managed to pack everything I'd remembered to get out of her trunk into my backpack. A ninjato-boken doesn't really fit in any container though, except those designed for it which I do not have.
Anyway, as we were saying goodbye, some transient-looking folk with a dog passed the car and I thought to myself, "Why I imagine that they will make comment of the fact that I am carrying what appears to be a sword." They didn't, and I passed them as I ran to the platform because I heard a train coming. It was for the other direction though and the young man got on after saying his own goodbyes to what I now realized was a woman (she had a hoodie on) and left their dog with her. While I was waiting, I heard a transit supervisor shout "Get off!" in the general direction of the train, and he kept the train from leaving until the young man got off. I guess he hadn't paid, or the supervisor thought by the look of him that he hadn't perhaps.
I wasn't really paying a lot of attention to them until I heard them start to argue. The young man was swearing at the transit supervisor and the two of them were enacting a kind of slow speed chase around the stairwell, climaxing on the young man yelling a lot of unpleasantries I can't recall at the supervisor. Anyway, they went down the stairs, with the transit supervisor escorting the guy out and I figured that would be the end of it. I got on my train when it came and sat down. Then I heard a lot of shouting and what sounded like scuffling from the stairwell and decided just as the doors were closing to get off the train and make sure nothing was wrong. As I rounded the corner, the young man was shouting at the supervisor that he'd hit him in the back of the head and that he could've fallen down the stairs. There was a bit more arguing and I was beginning to regret delaying myself by missing the train, when the young man took a swing at the supervisor. The supervisor punched back but was brought to the ground on the stairs with the transient boy on top of him as they continued to fight. At that point I ran down the stairs and yelled at them to break it up in a tone that I normally save for naughty children, only very loudly that I refer to as "Speaking in Capital Letters" and they separated. I don't think they'd even had a look at me before they broke off, but when they did they saw that I was a large man carrying a large stick shaped like a sword giving them an order from high ground. The decision to obey that kind of order is usually made somewhere in the hindbrain.
Anyway, the boy explained that he'd been hit in the back of the head and I continued in the same tone that if either of them pulled that kind of crap in front of me again that I'd be the one doing the hitting.
And that more or less was that. Kid got escorted off and around the corner and I got on a train. When I got to Commercial Drive to change trains I thought that perhaps leaving the transit supervisor alone with someone who was a) not alone and b) had a dog might've been a bad idea so I used the emergency phone to call in a report that there was bad trouble at Scott, and alerted a pair of policemen about it that I found on the lower level. When I got off the train at my station I left my name with another transit supervisor there, who turned out to be a client of my mom's.
Coincidence and symmetry.