While riding along the trail through Couchiching Beach Park Tuesday afternoon with Tom, we were approaching the trail area in front of the Champlain Monument.
In front of us- also on a bicycle, was a lady, a senior citizen, with a small dog in the bicycle’s basket. All three of us were in the right-hand lane- the one closest to the lake, which I believe we should be in, whether we were walking, riding or rollerblading.
Just ahead a young girl was walking with a baby in a stroller- accompanied by a young man. They were on the “wrong” side of the path. They tried to scrunch themselves and the stroller to the lake side when they saw the lady on the bike. It was still the wrong side for them. The lady actually had to dismount in order to have the threesome squeeze between her and the railing along the lakeside of the trail.
I moved to the left with Tom behind me doing the same. As I passed, I simply said-
“You should be on the other side for safety.”
We moved along a few feet when I heard someone yelling-
“Excuse me sir. Did you say something?”- It was the dear young lady.
I called back to her-
“I just said that for safety sake you should be on the other side in case more bikes come and they don’t see you soon enough.”
We continued to ride.
I asked Tom- “ Could you hear what that guy said?”
Tom was apparently about to speak to the them as well but I had spoken up first.
"He said something about- wear a helmet."- says Tom.
"I should wear a helmet? Maybe he should have worn a condom on the tip of his tiny dick so he wouldn’t have to live out his young life attached to his child bride!"
~ahem~
Crude I know- but it was just between Tom and I- until now.
As we peddled towards the Aqua Theatre I thought about how pissed off this guy seemed. For pete’s sake- he and “pretty baby” were not looking out for the young one in the stroller! I was concerned about the safety of the baby. Couldn’t they see that walking on the wrong side of a busy path could lead to an accident?
Lord love a duck- they had already forced the lady ahead of us to stop her bike and wait for them to pass.
Couldn’t they see that?
Probably not.
In retrospect, I think he had his head crammed up some dark and stormy place!
What about being safe for the kid?
They were on the wrong *&^*&%$# side of the path!
Safety first.
Never mind about shouting out safety tips for someone who has underwear older than the two of them combined!
Anyway, a helmet would muss my hair.
I eventually caught up to the lady with the dog in the carrier and said I had spoken to the people who forced her to stop her bike. They were obviously on the wrong side I told her.
She concurred.
It’s amazing there haven’t been people injured on the path with pea brains like those two walking a baby on the wrong side. It’s the kind of situation that could get blown all out of proportion and someone could end up hurting someone else in the heat of the moment.
That young gal tried to be so sweet when she said “excuse me sir”.
What a crock.
She was a class “A” bitch!
God help the kid.
Oh well, maybe Mommy Dearest will take the baby to jail every third Thursday when she visits Daddy- cause that’s where he’s headed.
Finally, later in the evening while walking the puppies we saw two young boys- maybe 14 or 15 standing across the street having a chinwag. We overheard a short segment of their conversation while passing.
The one boy sported a short, nicely-trimmed haircut. He was slim and athletic, wearing a muscle shirt that showed a bit of a youthful bicep. The other young lad had long, rather stringy hair. He was overweight and had bad posture as well as bad taste. He was sporting a pair of the baggiest nylon shorts I had ever seen.
Suddenly, the trim-looking lad looked the “beefy boy” in the eye and said-
“Look. Like I don’t wanna hurt your feelings or nothing- but you’re fat and out of shape.”
~smack~
I could hear the boy’s feelings being crushed beneath the soles of his friend’s Nike running shoes.
Tom and I snickered but inside I felt sorry for that young boy. It could have been his “first” boyhood crush.
He might never forget the unkind words spoken to him in haste. Now he would head home to cry himself to sleep on a tear-stained pillow.
How do I know?
Because I experienced what that young lad did, a ton of times.
By the time we reached the corner just past where the boys stood, “Mr. Trim and Sporty” jogged away up the street while his buddy shuffled away in the opposite direction, his shoulders sagging and his head down, counting the cracks in the sidewalk as he shuffled along.
You never just know what things you might “hear in passing.”
