Okay, so you’ve probably been accosted in the street by some jerk begging for money. Living in Toronto, it’s almost expected. Especially near Ryerson. But here it’s slightly different. Sure, you have homeless people begging for cash in the street, but you also have “do-gooders” trying to raise money for some “worthy” cause. Near where I work, there are always about 10 people surround the tube station trying to stop people to raise cash for their cause. I hardly ever stop for these morons because they’re annoying and obnoxious. But one day, on my way back from the deli, I decided to give this guy a minute of my time because I felt sorry for him. I stopped, and waited for him to give his speech on why I should give money to PETA or cancer research.
Boy, was I wrong.
This guy was trying to get people to pay 12 pounds a month to adopt a granny. Yes, that’s right. He wanted me to give my hard-earned cash to some old lady in a third-world county. Yeah, okay buddy. I have a grandmother, and she’s not getting any of my hard-earned cash either. Of all the good causes I could donate my money to, such as cancer or AIDS research, did this jackass really think I was going to give it to him? No wonder nobody stops to talk to these idiots in the street.
Anyway, Shane and I have decided to join the Y. Yes, that’s right, we’re going to start exercising, lest we turn into the fat-assed Brits we see everywhere. So, because he doesn’t have any, we went to the stores yesterday to buy Shane some runners. We met the rudest salespeople I have ever had the misfortune of dealing. They were even worse than the ones in Paris, and that’s saying something. Anyway, we went to Foot Locker, and I asked the salesguy to get some shoes from the back. Ten minutes later, he returns with two boxes of shoes and starts making his way over to us. Then he stopped, because he saw his friends. I looked at him, and he acknowledged that we were waiting for him. Did he bring the shoes over? No. Instead, he brought the shoes he got for Shane to his friend, who then tried them on! What an asshat. I gave him the stinkeye, and we left the store. I used to work in retail, and if we had ever treated a customer that poorly, we would have been fired. But not in this stupid country. It’s almost like people expect to be treated like crap, and pay for the privilege. Not me, thanks. Anyway, we did finally manage to find a nice salesguy and a sweet pair of running shoes for Shane – it only took three hours.
S.
