As I've indicated before, most travelling door to door encyclopedia salesmen (silently) quit after their first road trip, never to be seen again (by us, that is, and what else matters?). There were a lot of these one-trippers in my six months "inside", and most have been forgotten to the mists of time.
The only one my mind occasionally still turns to is the one who I always thought of as Steven Seagal, to the extent that that's the only name I have for him today. He was a very serious young man in his early 20s. Steven felt like he was living life as the hero in a Bruce Lee movie. He was a black belt in karate (a fact nobody could know him for 5 minutes without learning). He was a pacifist; all he wanted was to live a quiet dignified life and bring love an harmony to everyone, but dammit people kept making him fight!
Every story from him was the same. Yadda yadda peace hope love, yadda yadda coupla dicks wanting to start trouble, yadda yadda I tried to defuse the situation, yadda yadda they kept *pushin' man, they just kept pushin', yadda yadda **I beat the crap outta them man, it took me like 30 seconds and they just couldn't friggin' believe it! They were both down on the ground, completely in awe, and ***I just wish it didn't have to be that way.
We were in a bar one night having a beer after work. The place was pretty packed and Mr. Seagal and I were at a little table right in the middle of everyone. A slightly wobbly gentleman walked by and accidentally jostled our slightly wobbly table, making Steven's beer slosh inside his mug a little. A drop or two might have made it onto the table. Steven got up, put his hand on Mr. Wobbly's shoulder, and said "It's OK man. It's OK!" He nodded to emphasize how OK it was and how the wobbleman didn't have to fear the wrath of Steven Seagal. Because Steven Seagal only wants peace. I had to put a hand over my mouth to stifle laughter at so much earnest seriousness over what should have been a non-event. I wouldn't have wanted to make him angry.
Well, we eventually made it back to Vancouver, another road trip over, and Steven Seagal melted into the night like so many other one-trippers before him. I guess it was just time for him to move on, you know.
* Crescendo
** Climax!
*** Denouement
Monday, March 21, 2011
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
That Funny Time When We Pretended to Rob a Little Kid
So there we were in the frozen Great White North, and Ann Nilsson didn't have a hat. The weather was -20 or -30 and windy. She was either too cheap or too broke to buy one, so she suffered.
One night, our "territories" in town were adjacent to each other's, and after a fun-filled evening knocking on strangers' doors and trying to sell them encyclopedias, Ann and I met up to walk together back to the motel. As we were walking, I spied a plain black touque lying in a snow bank. I pointed it out to Ann and she picked it up, dusted off the snow, and put it on. Some folks look good in anything, and Ann was one such person.
I began to have the stirrings of inspiration. "Ann, what do you think we should tell the guys about how we got it?" Ann wasn't really sure what I meant. This was not an uncommon occurrence.
Let us pause this exciting and suspense-filled tale to point out that John Schlesinger was with us on this particular road trip. However fun and personable John could be at times, there was a very real mean streak to the guy. You see, he was an a**hole. I remember riding with him one day after a rain storm. There were big puddles on the road, and he went out of his way to try to drive through one in order to splash an old lady walking by. (He failed, thankfully.) He cackled uncontrollably like . . . well, like an old lady actually. I had never been an eye witness to such mean-spiritedness before.
As the months went by, I came to realise that even though I could get along with John, and have a reasonably friendly working and, on the road, living relationship with him, I really didn't like or respect him. This was not the case with any other member of my crew, or the members of the other crews with whom I would occasionally spend time. Some people were great, some were less than great, and some (remind me to talk about Sheldon some day) were certifiably crazy, but on a certain level I genuinely liked them all. That is to say, I like most people, and being fellow members of the cult of travelling door to door encyclopedia salesmen really does create a sense of fraternity.
Back to our tale. I decided it would be fun to play to John's meanness. But I wanted to make it believable. If we just said that I stole it from some kid, John and the rest of the crew would never buy it. I obviously didn't have it in me. So here's the story I worked out and rehearsed with Ann on our walk back to the motel:
Ann was really suffering in the freezing cold without a hat, and I decided that the situation simply had to be remedied. We saw a kid walking by wearing a touque. He seemed to be about eleven or twelve. I offered him five dollars for the hat, but he refused. So I told him, "Look, kid. The hat isn't even worth five bucks, and you're gonna be home and warm in a few minutes anyways, and tomorrow you can buy yourself a nicer one. So give me the hat and take the money, or I'll just take the hat no matter what". The kid got scared, so he just threw the hat down on the ground, and ran away. The best part is, we ended up getting the hat for free! But just to be safe, we should probably avoid that neighbourhood from now on.
We got our story straight and promised each other not to chicken out. We would stick to the story through hell or high water, and pretend we didn't care whether anyone believed us.
As we walked into the motel room, the first thing everyone noticed was Ann's head covering. Any distraction from the daily monotony is eagerly welcomed on the road, and the obviously well used hat on Ann's head was definitely going to be a story. Little did they know.
So we launched into our well rehearsed act, each of us picking up where the other left off, and I think we did a pretty convincing job of it. "Bull***t!" cackled John. "Sasha, you are too nice to ever do that! You're just trying to impress me."
Please notice that it says something about his personality that an implied threat of violence toward a child actually would be impressive to John. Anyways, we had expected some skepticism and initial resistance. "Well, I only intended to pay for it, and a much more than fair price too. If there were a store nearby, I would have bought a new touque there for less, so it's not like I was robbing the kid. How was I supposed to know he would panic and bolt without the money?"
Cackle, cackle. "I can't believe it! Sasha, I must be rubbing off on you!" Cackle, cackle. The rest of the guys just looked on with bemused smiles, not really sure what to think.
Come to think of it, neither did I.
One night, our "territories" in town were adjacent to each other's, and after a fun-filled evening knocking on strangers' doors and trying to sell them encyclopedias, Ann and I met up to walk together back to the motel. As we were walking, I spied a plain black touque lying in a snow bank. I pointed it out to Ann and she picked it up, dusted off the snow, and put it on. Some folks look good in anything, and Ann was one such person.
I began to have the stirrings of inspiration. "Ann, what do you think we should tell the guys about how we got it?" Ann wasn't really sure what I meant. This was not an uncommon occurrence.
Let us pause this exciting and suspense-filled tale to point out that John Schlesinger was with us on this particular road trip. However fun and personable John could be at times, there was a very real mean streak to the guy. You see, he was an a**hole. I remember riding with him one day after a rain storm. There were big puddles on the road, and he went out of his way to try to drive through one in order to splash an old lady walking by. (He failed, thankfully.) He cackled uncontrollably like . . . well, like an old lady actually. I had never been an eye witness to such mean-spiritedness before.
As the months went by, I came to realise that even though I could get along with John, and have a reasonably friendly working and, on the road, living relationship with him, I really didn't like or respect him. This was not the case with any other member of my crew, or the members of the other crews with whom I would occasionally spend time. Some people were great, some were less than great, and some (remind me to talk about Sheldon some day) were certifiably crazy, but on a certain level I genuinely liked them all. That is to say, I like most people, and being fellow members of the cult of travelling door to door encyclopedia salesmen really does create a sense of fraternity.
Back to our tale. I decided it would be fun to play to John's meanness. But I wanted to make it believable. If we just said that I stole it from some kid, John and the rest of the crew would never buy it. I obviously didn't have it in me. So here's the story I worked out and rehearsed with Ann on our walk back to the motel:
Ann was really suffering in the freezing cold without a hat, and I decided that the situation simply had to be remedied. We saw a kid walking by wearing a touque. He seemed to be about eleven or twelve. I offered him five dollars for the hat, but he refused. So I told him, "Look, kid. The hat isn't even worth five bucks, and you're gonna be home and warm in a few minutes anyways, and tomorrow you can buy yourself a nicer one. So give me the hat and take the money, or I'll just take the hat no matter what". The kid got scared, so he just threw the hat down on the ground, and ran away. The best part is, we ended up getting the hat for free! But just to be safe, we should probably avoid that neighbourhood from now on.
We got our story straight and promised each other not to chicken out. We would stick to the story through hell or high water, and pretend we didn't care whether anyone believed us.
As we walked into the motel room, the first thing everyone noticed was Ann's head covering. Any distraction from the daily monotony is eagerly welcomed on the road, and the obviously well used hat on Ann's head was definitely going to be a story. Little did they know.
So we launched into our well rehearsed act, each of us picking up where the other left off, and I think we did a pretty convincing job of it. "Bull***t!" cackled John. "Sasha, you are too nice to ever do that! You're just trying to impress me."
Please notice that it says something about his personality that an implied threat of violence toward a child actually would be impressive to John. Anyways, we had expected some skepticism and initial resistance. "Well, I only intended to pay for it, and a much more than fair price too. If there were a store nearby, I would have bought a new touque there for less, so it's not like I was robbing the kid. How was I supposed to know he would panic and bolt without the money?"
Cackle, cackle. "I can't believe it! Sasha, I must be rubbing off on you!" Cackle, cackle. The rest of the guys just looked on with bemused smiles, not really sure what to think.
Come to think of it, neither did I.
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