“So what are you going to do? What would you fight for?”
Yonge and Bloor is one of the city’s most critical intersections, yet it is currently in construction chaos. Sidewalks are diverted with confusing directions, if there are in fact any at all. But this post is not about my feelings about municipal infrastructure. As I biked home at midnight through this intersection and once again ended up at a shopping mall entrance instead of a crosswalk, I came across a man in a suit with a cut on his forehead who was having his own difficulty with navigation. I suggested he needed medical attention and he assured me it looked worse than it really was. He was visiting from Calgary and had been drinking with friends when someone made disparaging remarks about women and/or soldiers, so he had to beat the guy up. Now he was looking for his hotel.
I don’t know hotels in the city so all I could do was at least help him get back to the proper street sidewalk. He had clearly had enough to drink to affect his memory retention, for he repeatedly asked me how old I was. He wore a suit and was very clean-cut (well, except for the cut).
“What are you going to do when you grow up?” he asked.
“I’m not sure exactly when I will grow up. But to answer your question, all I can do is keep trying new things until I find the right one for me. ”
“Well how will you know?”
“I don’t know – I guess I’ll just know.”
I wasn’t sure if he was giving me advice or asking for some. A career in marketing pulling in $200,000, he’s travelled the world, has it all … but he was clearly depressed. Now that could have been the booze. But I don’t think it was just the booze.
“So what are you going to do when you grow up?” Well buddy, I’m not sure. But it won’t involve getting drunk and talking with my fists and then lecturing guys on bicycles about happiness and fulfillment.
Frustrations, Revelations 