Here's what happened:
Joe and I are waiting for the WheelTrans bus to take us down to the Art Gallery of Ontario's Exhibit ,"The Early Renaissance" . The bus was a few minutes late so we were just chatting when a woman came in, about our age, and sat a rested on one of the couches in the lobby. She had a small dog with her, wearing a camo parka, and we all greeted each other and talked a bit about the weather. Then, suddenly, she said, "What did you do to get so big?" I said, "I don't wish to talk to you any longer," She said, "It's just so sad to see you like you are," I said, "I think it's horribly sad that you've made it to your age without learning any of the social graces," Then the bus arrived and we left.
We talked a bit about it on the bus, Joe was as shocked as I was at her ugly intrusion into our day. I said to him, "Why does this stuff constantly happen to me, is God sitting up there with a checklist, did he just check off, 'Give Dave a blog experience'?" Joe agreed that I seemed to be a magnet for odd and distasteful experiences. Then, we entered the building and went to the exhibit. It didn't take long for us to become engrossed in what we were looking at.
Here's what happened next:
We wandered around, each finding things to point out to the others, some beautiful, some odd, some startlingly peculiar. After the show we shopped in the store that was attached to the exhibit - I bought a few cool things, gifts mostly, and then we headed out.
We wandered over to Yonge Street and decided, instead of taking the subway, to mosey along the street and do some window shopping. We talked about the show and marvelled at the fact that there weren't a lot of people there so we could both easily get around. We talked about the shops that we were looking into and returned to the subject of maybe buying a new vehicle.
Finally we arrived at the Panasonic Theatre where we picked up tickets for Cats, our seating choice is the subject of tomorrow's blog so I'll leave that alone for now. We got a glimpse of the stage and it looked wonderful. We were pocketed the tickets and then went off for lunch with a friend.
Here's what didn't happen:
The conversation in the morning lingered around, like a smelly fart, for only a few minutes. Then, with a fresh breeze, it was gone. There was a time where, if that had happened, my day would have been spent very differently. I would have had to constantly pull myself up and out of a mishmash of unpleasant emotions, I would have had to constantly put a stop to that horrible internal voice that loves to call me names, I would have had to force myself to focus on the world outside of me.
None of that happened.
My day just went on, her comments had landed a blow but didn't leave a bruise. I don't know if it's because I've grown used to this kind of thing happening or if it's because I've become strong enough, mature enough, confident enough not to let someone else determine the course of my day - not to rob me of the ability to enjoy myself - not to control how I think about myself.
If fact, this morning, when I sat down to write this blog, I began to think of subjects to write about, and then I remembered, "Oh, yeah, the woman with the cute dog and the ugly manners."
I truly hope that I am arriving at the point where random strangers have exactly the control that random strangers should have - very little.