So I suppose my powers of self-preservation are a little lacking. Case-in-point, I was walking home after a wine tasting with a couple of girlfriends. It was a crowded night in downtown Toronto as the Raptors game just got out. I know what you’re wondering and, yes, people actually go to Raptors games in Toronto. A drunk guy behind me was talking loudly to his friend over the cell phone.
“Yes,” he slurred. “I know where I am! I’m behind a girl in a blue jacket.”
(pause)
“I’m on a fucking sidewalk. I see a bus. Do you see a bus? Do you see this chick in the blue jacket?”
(pause)
“I TOLD YOU. I’M WALKING BY A BUS AND I’M FOLLOWING A GIRL IN A BLUE JACKET!!! HOW CAN I BE MORE CLEAR ABOUT WHERE I AM?”
(pause)
“Yeah, I’m probably creeping her out but how will you find me if I stop following her?”
This is where I, the girl in the blue jacket, stop and turn to the drunk guy.
“Hand me your phone, please?”
He gives me the phone.
“Hi, this is the girl in the blue jacket. Do you see the Real Sports Bar?
(pause)
“Yeah, it’s across the street from the Air Canada Centre.”
(pause)
“Okay stand in front of it and I’ll bring your friend to you.”
I turned to drunk guy.
“Dude, your friends are on the other side of the ACC. I’ll walk you over.”
“There’s an other side? How the fuck did they get over there?”
The guy stumbled behind me as I walked him to his friends. He tried putting his arm around me at one point but I’m pretty sure it was just to steady himself. When we reached his friend’s I could immediately tell which one was his girlfriend because her face was so red and she looked like she was about to murder him. She was also the only one who did not thank me for helping out. I couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been wandering around following random girls in bright jackets before I took pity on him.
Anyway, yes. Apparently when a drunk guy starts to follow me home, I turn around and walk him to where he’s going instead of kicking him in the nuts and running like hell. How have I survived up to this point?
