OR... (some) Canadians (like me) aren't always so polite.
I dropped in to my local pub for a couple of quick beers tonight shortly before closing. This place is more like a cafe to me; a place to read a book and relax. It's not usually very busy. Tonight it was a bit busier than usual, but it is tourist season.
And if it's tourist season, my question is, what's the bag limit?
More over the fold...
There was a group at a nearby table. I had my back to, so I was hearing more than seeing. Two male/female couples, maybe one other guy, by the sound of it.
It was pretty obvious they were Americans. White Americans. They were talking politics. Mostly health care. And it was vile. The first time I heard the term "fucking nigger" in reference to your President, I turned and glared. But it didn't seem to make much impression. One woman in the party was an Obama supporter, but her husband was berating her for it.
And they were LOUD. I couldn't have ignored it if I tried. The atmosphere was poisonous. After two beers I'd had enough. I settled my tab, and prepared to leave.
Before I did, I had a few words with our visitors. My timing was bad; the woman and one of the men had gone to the washroom. But the vilest of the group was still sitting there, and pretty drunk to boot.
My words, as best I can recall:
"Normally, I'm happy to welcome visitors to my town. I'm the Town Crier, after all. But I couldn't help but hear what you folks have been saying. And the sooner you racist pricks haul your asses out of my town, the happier I'll be."
And I walked out.
Ironically, I had been trying to read a book on the siege of Fort Cumberland in 1776, which explains why Nova Scotia is not part of the US. Some days I'm more grateful for the way history turned out than other days.