Imagine having an argument with a garbage can? It took place on the westbound platform of the Bathurst Street Subway station in Toronto just the other day.
The gentleman--and I use the word "gentleman" loosely--screamed and kicked at a can on the subway platform. He looked about 25 years old. His clothes were designed by Calvin Pig and Yves St. La Moth. Obviously the gentleman's barber had died sometime during the 19th century. I could not tell how old the garbage can was, but I suspect it was a little younger than the gentleman.
Reality would not allow me to hear what the garbage can was saying. Whatever it was, the garbage can kept interrupting the gentleman. His words were hard to understand, but several times he told the garbage can, "Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up! Don't interrupt me! Shut the fuck up!" And then he would kick it some more while shouting.
The arrival of the westbound subway train brought the argument to an end. The garbage can looked relieved.
"I don't want anymore fuckin' nonsense from you! Ya hear?" the gentleman said. And he kicked the garbage can one final time before boarding the train.
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