So There, You Stupid Stupidhead

Just over a week ago, Saint Aardvark and I went to the CBC Studio One Book Club to hear William Gibson read from his new novel Spook Country.

I drove the car to work that morning after dropping Trombone at daycare. It was as horrible as I imagined driving from New Westminster to downtown Vancouver in rush-hour traffic would be, so by the time I was within spitting distance of my workplace I pulled into the first parking lot on the right and spent $16 on parking, when the lot across the street is only $8. At 6 pm, the lot charges you more money so SA and I met up after work, moved the car to another lot (took 20 minutes to drive across downtown Vancouver at 4:30 pm!) and had a so-so dinner at the pub next to the library that used to be good and now is just HOT WAITRESS! WOW! HOT!

We got to the CBC building, found seats and discussed acoustics and I bought a roll of Butter Rum Lifesavers from the vending machine in the break room down the hall. I think they had been in that machine since before I was born. It took me a good five minutes to unwrap the wax paper. I imagine that vending machine is on the “New Employee Orientation” tour of the CBC building. “Don’t eat the food from this machine; everyone will know you’re a newbie.” Then William Gibson showed up and he read and it was dreamy. I am not a William Gibson fan, per se; I liked Pattern Recognition and I am now reading Spook Country and enjoying it as well but I come to his work like I came to that of Modest Mouse – as one who appreciates the artist in question taking babysteps into mainstream and out of niche world. (I need everything pre-digested, yessir that’s me.) Not that science fiction isn’t part of mainstream literature but.

Anyway, he’s a very tall writer and I find very tall writers fascinating. Oh, short ones too, all right. You caught me. I love writers, all of them, all of you.

It was time to go and we followed a crowd out of the Studio One Rehearsal Hall and into the hallway of the basement of the CBC. Then we followed the crowd up three flights of stairs and down another hallway and up another flight of stairs before someone at the front of the crowd said, “Hey, these people don’t actually know where they’re going,” at which point the suckers at the back of the crowd hopped in the nearest elevator, argued about which level was street (B! no, M! no, L!) and then we finally got out.

When we got back to the parking lot, I immediately noticed that someone had crashed into the back of our car. The taillight was smashed on the left and there was a crack in the body. (chassis! ha!) As SA retrieved a piece of notepaper from the windshield, a security guard came running over, waving his hands in the air, yelling, “It was only a minor collision! It was another customer!” When he reached us and had caught his breath, he explained that some guy had hit our car backing out of his parking spot. Guy gave his information to the security guard who was standing by. It was only a minor collision, you see, he explained.

We assured the security guy we would not sue him and drove home. A couple of days later, SA called the dude on the notepaper. After a week of trying we still had not spoken with him – just his roommate – to get the required information to file a proper insurance claim so Saturday I filed it as a hit and run.

I just don’t get why you would leave your information with no intention of answering your phone. If you’re going to lie about it, just leave a fake number in the first place. Ass. Now I’m filing a hit and run claim with your license plate number so you’re going to be in trouble. Ass.

Meanwhile my left turn signal, instead of its staid, moderate “tick-tick-tick-tick” now says “tickticktickticktickticktick!!!!!!!” (which I vocalize as: “I’M TURNING LEFTTURNINGLEFTTURNINGLEFT!” because it amuses me.)

In other news, Trombone can move his head from side to side, like he is (A Small Pigeon) Walking Like an Egyptian. 14 month old babies are so amusing. Babies should totally be born at 14 months, except for the vaginal canal part.

Happy monday!