Saturday 18 November 2006

Lloyd


I’ve been downing cough syrup, lozenges and pills since I woke up this morning. Body feels fine, throat is continually sore. I’m looking forward to an “easy fall base miles ride” organized by my TransRockies partner Dallas “I bend crank arms by just looking at them” Morris and his new H&R Block team. Perfect way to socialize with the cycling crowd, enjoy the fall weather, and help flush out my illness. Part of me should have known better once I saw the riders gathering… this wasn’t going to be an easy fall base miles ride. One rule of thumb for base mile rides, is that Elite mountain biker powerhouses such as Dallas shouldn’t bonk.

Long story short, we enjoyed the day. Typical guys out to play, and playing too hard. We talked enough to be social, competed enough to organize the egos of the group, and stopped for the requisite coffee break. Probably not good for the cold, but tomorrow should be a lot easier – the memorial ride for BK and some cruising probably with Nutbrown and Devin after is in the plans. Dinner will be swapping cycling tales with whoever of the euro-roadie-vacation crowd shows up now that Cornelia is in town. Cornelia is a popular cycling guide with quite a Calgary following.

After doing a few errands and dropping by my dad’s place for a birthday evening a few days in advance of his actual birthday, I’m driving home. Somehow, when I’m out of town for a few weekends, I return to find the car has a few missing buttons on the dash, and only one headlight is working. My girlfriend is gifted in many ways, and being slightly accident prone seems to be one of them. I don’t let this stand too much in the way of loving her though.

But back to cough syrup. Driving along Morley trail, my one headlight picks up a person staggering up the middle of the street. I one-touch the button that rolls down my window, instantly letting a fog of Scope enter my car.

“Hey man, where you headed?” I ask from the comfort of my heated seat in my yuppie mobile.

“Oh hi, man I’m just looking for the C-Train, can you help me out.”

“You bet buddy. Just hang a right on that street. Watch where my car turns, that’s where you should go.”

“Ok, thanks man, god bless.”

I’m not known to be a bleeding heart, but as the years go by I seem to have developed a little more concern for those who probably don’t have too many people concerned for them. Life has a way of presenting itself in stark contrasts, and it’s obviously the least I can do to remove myself from the yuppie mobile for a few minutes to help this dude out. I know this guy is going to have a hell of a time making it to the station, so once I park and say hi to my girlfriend, I say I’m running back outside for a minute to help out my new friend. In the slightly less altruistic sense, I also think it’d be better to limit the number of drunks wandering my neighbourhood at night, although he’s too inebriated to do much harm. I grab a couple of Plus Calorie Boosts out of the fridge, and the half bag of Cool Ranch Doritos that I have left over from my stash of last nights “I’m sick and I need comfort food” binge.

Buddy is walking down the wrong street, and although he would definitely benefit from the safety of walking on the sidewalk, he seems to favour the center of the street.

“Hey man, remember me? I’m the guy that just drove by. I’ll help you make it to the C-Train station, it’s just down here.”

He tells me he really appreciates the help, cause he can’t seem to find the station himself. “I’m Lloyd, what’s your name?”

“Erik”

“Pleased to meet you man”. Lloyd offers a handshake. Interestingly enough his fingerless gloves are soaked with Scope, so our handshake is nice and moist. On the bright side, it’s probably a bit more sanitary that way, Lloyd doesn’t really exude an aptitude for personal hygiene. I ask him what he’s drinking, he shows me his bottle that’s not Scope. It’s the Safeway brand of mouthwash, cause it’s “only $2.88”. According to Lloyd, it’s got 32% alcohol that’s “the same as imported gin”. He offers me some, but I say I really shouldn’t because I’m sick, and I wouldn’t want to get him sick. This actually seems to register, and he expresses his appreciation. He’s also got an empty bottle of cough syrup he’s just downed, “cause it makes the alcohol work better”. I guess we’ve got something in common for the day, although our motives were a little different. Lloyd seems to have a rudimentary understanding of urban chemistry at least… fortunately he’s not operating any heavy machinery.

The walk down my block takes several times longer than it normally should. Lloyd claims he was trying to meet his brother out here, but they couldn’t find each other. In the mean time he picked a few bottles, dropped them off at the VRRI, then went shopping with his proceeds. He’s also carrying a plastic bag that’s leaking a bit. I ask him what’s in the bag, and he tells me it’s my lucky day. He’s got a 2L bottle of Safeway Select Orange Soda with a lid that’s about 97% sealed. The rest of the bag is full of CD’s “he found in the garbage”. Good stuff he tells me, like his hero Kurt Cobain, an entire box set. He’s lucky he saved them from the trash, he’ll be able to sell them downtown before heading home to Victoria park. I suspect someone is going to find they left their car door unlocked tomorrow morning, or worse that they now need to replace a window. Lloyd says I’m a pretty nice guy, and that if “I toss a few bucks his way, I could be listening to some classics tonight, none of ‘em are even scratched you know”.

Finally we reach the stairs leading up to the C-Train bridge, and Lloyd asks if I can hold his mouthwash, he needs to hold the hand rail for stability. At least his survival instinct is still somewhat intact. During the ascent we cover topics such as where he’s been in life (Vancouver, Toronto, Winnipeg, Regina, and New York “but that’s a whole story in itself”… which I don’t doubt). He says it took him 42 years to find true love, but he sorted through his share of floozies and eventually found it. I let him know that I’d recently shared a 10th anniversary with my girlfriend, which prompted a damp, congratulatory handshake. He said I was a lucky man; I agreed that I felt my life had been pretty lucky so far. He said true love will get you really far in life, further than he’d ever gotten. Aside from any sarcasm my mind would generate about using his life as a measuring stick, it was a decently poignant comment. Yes, love and relationship stability will certainly help one navigate both life’s rough waters and life’s calm waters. After a painfully long ascent up the stairs, including near disaster on the halfway flat section, we head into the station. I hold the door open for him and we make our way inside. The second it shuts behind us, he again mentions that he wants to sell his CD’s. I hadn’t noticed anyone behind us, but the doors suddenly open again, and 9 university partygoers trample through. The first one has a yellow baseball cap on sporting foot long stuffed moose-like antlers. Lloyd is seriously impressed; he’s at a loss for words. Well, to him they were probably words, but to the partygoers and I it was mostly exuberant slurring and gibberish. The second guy is probably 6’2”, and he’s wearing a faded pink one piece ski suit with green shoulder trim that, at best, was intended for someone no taller than 5’6”. Mint 80’s style golden mirrored Oakley goggles cover his eyes. Lloyd had a hard time digesting this as his face went pretty blank, but I’d surmise his thoughts were something akin to “what the f**k?”. Two girls trailing the group were fairly average looking and pretty overweight for being early 20’s, but Lloyd straight up told ‘em they were “the dead sexiest bitches he’d ever seen”. His choice of approach had understandably predictable results.

Once the entertainment passed, we got down to business. I gave Lloyd the Doritos, pointing out that “everyone gets the munchies, and these are good chips, but my girlfriend’s got dinner waiting and I don’t want to ruin my supper.” He said he really loved Doritos, so that transaction went over fairly well. He didn’t quite understand the Boost bottles… he was fairly upset that they weren’t alcoholic. I told him just to have one to help wash down the Doritos, and to have one in the morning when he was hungry. Don’t know how well that sank in; at least I tried. He offered me the orange soda, but I said I wasn’t much of a pop drinker. So the only business left to settle was the CD’s. He really wanted to give them to me as a thanks for helping out present, but it’d be really nice if I could spare $5 for them.

Looks like we’re back to morality as a theme again for a second night in a row, funny how that keeps cropping up. Here I am potentially buying stolen CD’s off a drunk native for $5. I quickly work it through in my mind, and fork over $5. I tell him not to spend it all in once place. He says he’s gonna spend it as fast as he can.

“Well, Lloyd, you can’t buy 2 bottles of mouthwash with $5, so if you’re gonna buy one, you should buy something good, like a burrito with the money you have left over.”

“That’s not a bad idea brother.”

“Lloyd, it’s been great meeting you man. Have a good night, hope you make it home safe.”

“Erik, thanks for helping me out. Next time we meet we’re gonna sit down for a COFFEE!” I have to admit I’m 100% surprised he remembered my name for 15 minutes, I often have a hard time with names even when sober.

“Sure, coffee’s on me.”

“God bless. And you’d better buy Tim Horton’s.”

First, I’m impressed with the brand power of Tim Horton’s in Canada. And with respect to morality, I’m taking the view that our transaction was $5 in exchange for a little insight into true love. I’ll probably print off this story and leave it with the CD’s in a grocery bag at the neighbourhood police station, seems like the only way they have a remote chance to get back to their rightful owner.

Just a Saturday night in the burbs.

1 comment:

  1. your stories are too bloody long eric. get to the piont already?. I mean I can't even read a whole one yet. I just don't have the attention span.
    Don't you have a 'cliffnotes'?.

    I'll tell you one thing though, because I know you're gonna read this. I knew a guy just like Lloyd once, only his name was Dallas. Times changed over the years and now he has a posh condo in Royal Oak and owns 5 bikes. Instead of a dream to get back the one that was stolen, probably by some other crack head.
    I've picked pennies off the street until I had enough money to buy a loaf of bread, looking forward to that special day called WELFARE WEDNESDAY, and wondering which beautiful hotel I'm gonna sleep behind that night.
    People like you only give to those less fortunate because it makes you feel good. I see it as Lloyd made a difference in your life that day, but you never really made a difference to his. But good for you for trying, I really mean it.

    You see now I'm a 'lucky guy' too. Lucky to have friends like you buddy.
    I guess if I ever hit the skids again I'll know a good place to B&E a Mercedes! haha!! sucker!

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