Back in Vancouver
As I wake up, I immediately notice someone is looking at me. Not just looking. Staring. But I won’t back down. He keeps looking at me as he enters the gas station. I unlock the car and walk in giving him a big warm “hello”. He doesn’t reply. I insist and ask “how are you?”, but all I get as an answer is an indiscernible “ok”. Never mind, I do what I have to do and as I’m about to walk out, he stops me saying “You can’t park here all night you know. Didn’t you see the sign?”. And if you just read that in a normal tone, read back adding heaps of anger and indignation. I explain that it was pitch dark and pouring rain when I arrived and apologize for not seeing the sign, and I even ask if I didn’t cause any problem (fully knowing that I didn’t). He replies that he almost called 911, but it was too late. I’m not sure what he meant by “too late”. Too late in the night for calling the cops, or too late because when he saw me I was getting out of the car? I’ll never know. I just left.
That was how my day started. But that’s not all coming back to Vancouver would bring. As I’m entering Vancouver, changing lane to go West Vancouver instead of Vancouver West (go and figure), I’ll get a nice finger from the car behind me. Yes, I did indicate and no, I didn’t drive like a French man. I guess it’s the just way it is. Big town = big stress.
And last but not least, only a few minutes after I gave the car back and started to cross the street (yes, both when and where I’m supposed to) I was centimeters from being hit by a van. The funny thing is, he was not even sorry, not at all, it was more like I was in his way and should feel bad about it. It didn’t matter that my light was green and that I was on a passenger crossing (or whatever it’s called).
Can’t wait to be out of town.