I have a lot of weird interactions when I’m out and about. I’m very well known among my friends for running into complete strangers who will give me advice, or confront me, or offer to sell me stuff or just generally tell me things. Once, I had a random stranger in a parking lot aggressively demand to know why I had a canoe lashed to the top of my car; he seemed quite put out when I told him that obviously, I was a bobsledder. I’ve had people complement me on my various pins, t-shirts, and jewellery, and then I turn around and had someone insult me for the very same thing. After the Pulse nightclub shooting I’d been making a point of wearing my Pride rings and an elderly lady in a grocery store asked me what they meant, then wept and called me a “brave boy” when I explained. I recently had an anti-masker charge at me screaming for wearing an N-95 in public.
And don’t get me started on all the weird shit that’s happened to me at various LCBOs across this province. The trick to dealing with the weirdness is to keep calm and, when necessary, deploy a caustic wit.
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