Old Sock Drawer

Currently listening to: “La Reine” – Les Cowboys Fringants

I continue my coverage of general Vancouver oddities seen and overheard in this post (previous ones include Vegetable Sandwich Man and Drunks before 3 p.m.).

I’ve always been intrigued by people who hold extremely loud and personal conversations in the loo, on the bus, in the cinema (god, honestly!), etcetera. In particular, I’m always puzzled as to whether some subtle exhibitionism compels such people to expostulate on their entire lives while on public transit. Be it jabbering into a cellphone at 293152 wpm, or yelling at their iPod-listening friends as the rest of the bus/Seabus listens on, it’s a source of endless entertainment.

Today was no exception. While reading Chuck Klosterman’s hilarious pop culture rants in his collection, Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto on the 211, I was treated to one of those incredibly scintillating conversations which nobody needs to hear, but just can’t stop listening to. (Somewhat like Lady GaGa’s stuff- you don’t really want to listen to her music, but just can’t get those catchy pop chords out of your head. But I digress.)

So this aforementioned character had such mad dramatic news that he just had to call up five friends and repeat the same story to each one of them, getting progressively louder as he went on while the rest of the bus listened on to his blow-by-blow detail of exactly how much he wanted to sleep with the lead singer of a Celtic punk rock band, which plays mandolins and electric guitars. We were also treated to a description of exactly how rousing he found aforementioned Celtic rocker, and I don’t mean that in the whole grandeur of Celtic music way.

Now, I’m sorry, but firstly, what exactly is a Celtic punk rock band? Is that like Lord of the Dance crossed with Led Zepplin with a side serving of Simple Plan? Will they play rounds except with screaming? Will there be Irish dancing? Does one smash a mandolin? Most importantly, do they do covers, and if so, will they do a cover of Queen’s We Will Rock You in an Irish accent? These questions are plaguing me at present, so I’ve taken the liberty of researching this: according to Wikipedia, Celtic punk is “punk rock mixed with traditional Celtic music”. How very helpful. In following the links, I must say that Scottish Gaelic punk sounds a lot more intriguing…but I digress again.

Secondly, was it really necessary to hold that conversation on the bus, yelling into a cellphone (where presumably, the other party is probably also on a bus, knowing the sort)? I don’t feel the need to speak about my tooth-brushing habits on the bus; nor am I compelled to (twist and) shout about my metaphorically raging hormones. Also, was it necessary to tell five people the exact same story? You could have mixed it up a little for all our increased entertainment. After a while, it was somewhat like listening to an audiobook on loop. Yes, we know your Celtic rocker is absolutely “just so f-ing hot” and can play without a pick. Yes, we know that you’re getting turned on just thinking about it. Bloody brilliant, I’m sure. But no matter how intrinsically entertaining it may be the first time round, after three renditions of the same tale, things get a bit dull. It’s like over-milking the cow (or some metaphorical expression like that). It’s just not that funny any more (except in theory). And Chuck Klosterman does not appreciate your distracting me from his brilliant tripped-up rants.

If I ever so much as breathe that I don’t like busing, remind me of all I’ll be missing if I start driving, or living on rez.

I definitely will be writing another blog post tomorrow, regarding self-help book authors and how easy it is to delude people. But that’s a story for another time. Till then, cheers!

P.S. This kinda made my day: LOL, BLAGOJEVICH

Tags:   overheard in Vancouver · public transit2 Comments