Scene: Waiting for Jeff outside the Yaletown starbucks. Muscly guy in Gold’s Gym tank-top sitting on the patio, me standing on the sidewalk below, wearing this t-shirt.
MG: you must carry a gun
MG: You must carry a gun
MG (pointing at my chest): You must carry a gun, wearing a shirt like that.
MG: You don’t pack, wearing that?
MG: You a stock-broker, or something?
Me (looking down at my shirt, Jeans & skatershoes):No….I’m a code
MG: a what?
Me (making typing motions):A coder, a programmer
MG: You an American?
MG: where’re you from?
Me: Right here.
MG: No…where’re you from?
Me: right here.
MG: Get out. And you don’t pack wearing that?
And then I kinda wandered away, thinking how incredibly bizarre an exchange that was.