K. McLeod – Galaxy Brain

Tales from the Pond

“Do you know what I pay in taxes?!”

“Not enough?”

That’s me and the Master of the Universe going at it on a long weekend in the summer of… 2017? 18? “Not enough?” was my quip to his “Do you know what I pay in taxes?!” We got into it just after he arrived to the pond and Barb and I were leaving. He was displeased by the rabble in attendance and expressed the opinion that he was the only member of the public with a right to be there because he actually lived in the wealthy neighbourhood where the pond is located.

Imagine. He went there. To a woman old enough to be his very young mother.

Meanwhile, Barb, ever keen to avoid “incidents”, was hastening our leave-taking at my elbow.

“C’mon, I have to catch the bus. He can say what he wants. The pond is public.”

Barb takes the bus to the pond. I ride my bike. The Master of the Universe walks because he’s so rich he lives next door to it.

There’s no place to change at the pond, no toilets, just a couple of benches and a bin for garbage – of which there should be no need in a conservation area, if you ask me.

But there I go, digressing into the Land of Master of the Universe, where what I want is how it is.

Okay, the truth. I didn’t quip “Not enough?” when the Master of the Universe bellowed “Do you know what I pay in taxes?!” My blond companion did later when I recounted the incident. I barely got out “taxes” before he quipped “Not enough?” – complete with an ascot-wearing yachtsman accent and swirling of imaginary martini.

What I yelled was “Go fuck yourself!!” – ala Ricky from the Trailer Park Boys.

I sometimes wonder if my blond companion, who is not a pond person, has a superior retort for every incident, or just the ones I tell him about later. To be fair to me, as soon as he quipped “Not enough?” I could appreciate that it was superior to yelling “Go fuck yourself!!” Also to be fair to me, I’d have to be a completely different person to quip “Not enough?” as opposed to yelling “Go fuck yourself!!” to a Master of the Universe who has just bellowed “Do you know what I pay in taxes?!”.

The irony of it is, I’m displeased by the rabble at the pond, too. The toddlers in diapers, the picnickers on the tiny beach nobody should even be allowed to stand on, the drivers (except for Carole), sunscreen wearers, families, noodles/tubes/plastic-of-any-kind, kids, teenagers, people in their 20s, 30s and 40s, Conservatives.

Although I guess if I had my way the pond could end up covered in floating garbage, too – on account of there being no bin.

Kathryn McLeod

Kathryn McLeod lives very frugally in Ottawa where she continues to be a sporadically employed office temp. Although a professional disappointment to her late mother, who enjoyed a physician assisted death a year or so ago, her office temp tales were always a big hit with her late mother’s dining companions when she would visit her seniors’ residence in Sault Ste. Marie, which she did dutifully twice per year – on her mother’s dime. But it was when she landed a much needed job selling ladieswear at the mall that her tale-telling reached a whole ‘nother level with her mother’s dining companions until, finally, even her late mother joined the chorus, “You have to write a book about that place!” Normally, this would have resulted in Kathryn NOT writing a book, about anything, ever, because, for whatever reason, she simply could not seem to do what her mother wanted. But then, as fate would have it, Arlene, who worked in “Chestertons”, said, “I should write a book about this place”, to which Kathryn replied, with commitment so absolute she actually did it, “No – I should write a book about this place”. And thus was “That Looks Good on You – You Should Buy It!” brought into the world. Enjoy. And remember, we’re all in this together, wasting our lives working for money so that when we’re old we can hang around and get in the way of younger people wasting their lives working for money. And so on and so forth and more of the same etc etc..