JANUARY 16: A RACIST? TWO NUTBARS AND A ZEALOUS SECURITY GUARD
About this time last year, I started having problems with Chinese women moving away from me when I sat near them. It continued for six months before I wrote about it. https://seniorimaginarynumber.wordpress.com/2015/06/05/chinese-women-and-negrophobia/
Chinese women moving away from me has never stopped. They’re still doing it, but recently other people are doing the same thing. Two weeks ago a small brown man (Sri Lankan?) moved away from me on the subway when I sat near him. He looked at me with disgust and hatred. Two white women did the same within the past week: one was on the subway and the other was at the library. Both moved away, looking at me with disgust and hatred, when I sat near them.
On Saturday morning, I sat at a table near a white male in his late teens. He gave me that disgust-hatred look, and picked up his belongings and moved away. Is he a guy who leaves racist messages on top of urinals in public washrooms? Who knows? I can only assume that color is the reason these people move away from me. (The Chinese women have fear and hatred in their eyes, and the others have hatred and disgust with no fear.)
Too bad people let my color get in the way. I’m really a nice guy. My only fault is that sometimes it stinks when I fart.
Later Saturday afternoon, an old man stood in front of a computer I had reserved. He was bald on top with long white hair at the sides. He had a long pointed nose. Put a biblical gown on him and he would look like an old prophet. He would not move to allow me access to the computer because he did not believe I had reserved it. After he had a wee rant, a librarian finally convinced him to move to another computer. “I didn’t want to use that computer anyways,” he said. “It stinks!”
After the library closed at 5:00 p.m., a friend called on my cell phone. I talked to her while I was standing in the entrance way to the subway from the North York Centre. I was against the wall, of this large entrance way, and not obstructing any people. A security guard, on a mission to make the world a better place, interrupted my wonderful conversation.
“My supervisor told me to tell you to move. You’ve been here too long,” he said.
“I’m on the phone. I can’t get a signal on the subway so I am talking here,” I said.
“You’re loitering on private property,” he said.
I tried to reason with him saying that I could be on a payphone inside the North York Centre, for the same length of time, and he would not bother me.
“That’s right,” he said, “because the payphone is attached to the wall.”
“What difference does it make? I am here for a reason. I’m on a phone that isn’t attached to the wall. I can’t get a signal on the subway.”
“You’re loitering here, and my supervisor told me to tell you to move.”
I wanted to stay because I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but I moved to another place and continued my conversation. I did not want Sherlock or his supervisor accusing me of killing Kennedy, causing 911, or breathing in when I am supposed to breathe out.
“Loitering is the act of remaining in a particular public place for a protracted time without any apparent lawful purpose.” – Wikipedia
After finishing my conversation with my friend, late Saturday afternoon, I went to the Finch Subway station and took the 36 Finch West bus. I sat at the back of the bus, and minded my business. A young short black man boarded the bus and charged at me shouting how he’s going to kill me because I threatened him. He waved an unopened beer bottle at me as he shouted his threats. I thought he was going to hit me with the bottle. I could not understand everything he was saying because of his West-Indian accent. I did not know this man and have never seen him before. I told him so, but he insisted that he was going to kill me because I threatened him.
“Hey bus driver, this guy is threatening me!” I shouted to the bus driver. She did nothing. Once again, I thought about how the TTC is concerned about my safety. This time, for some reason, I was not as afraid as I was back in October when a drunk kicked a bottle at me and the TTC operator did nothing. I remained calm. https://seniorimaginarynumber.wordpress.com/2015/10/28/trauma-on-the-ttc-ii/
Faster than you can say, “Mood swing,” Nutbar stopped threatening me and asked me for a hug. When I said that I did not want to hug him, and for him to leave me alone, he returned to shouting how he’s going to kill me. Then he suddenly stopped and sat down a few seats ahead of me. I walked down to the bus driver and said to her that I did not know the guy and had never seen him before and how he had threatened me. I no sooner finished saying this when Nutbar charged towards me screaming that I am complaining about him, and that he was going to kill me. I stood there and said nothing.
The bus driver said, “Look fellas, I don’t want any trouble on my bus. I want to have a nice peaceful ride and go home when I’m finished my route. Okay?”
I walked back to my seat wondering what has to happen to me, on TTC property, before the TTC will do anything. Nutbar stayed and talked to the driver. Then he came back and sat a few seats ahead of me.
“Gee, I hope he doesn’t have a gun,” I said under my breath not intending for anyone to hear me. But people sitting near me did hear, and they got up and moved to seats near the front of the bus. For the first time I knew why people moved away from me.
No problems for the rest of the ride. Nutbar moved to various seats at the front and back of the bus a few times. Then he stayed in one at the front and fell asleep. When I got off the bus, he was still asleep cuddling his beer bottle like a teddy bear.
Before I went to sleep, late Saturday night, I thought, “What an uneventful day. I have nothing to write about.”
Posted on January 18, 2016, in Uncategorized and tagged 36 finch bus, 911, jfk, library, north york centre, nutbar, racism, security guard, sherlock holmes, ttc. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.