The great Doanwanna Poopoo and I recently took a business trip to Toronto and while we were there, we met up with a couple unticket P1s for drinks. (Ok, so maybe DP and I had all the drinks…whatever.) Anyway, we had a rather humorous brush with greatness and it’s a story that needs telling, so here we go…
It should be known first that neither of us had ever been to Canada and before this deteriorates into something else, I do want to say that I loved it up there. We stayed downtown, right in the middle of Toronto’s entertainment district, and entertained we were. Great weather…good beer…friendly people…cool night-life…it was great.
But back to point…
The brotherhood of the Ticket, as we all know, is very strong. Hence, theunticket.com. It was through theunticket’s WTDS chat that we learned that a couple of unticket contributors, AP & TheAnus, both live in Toronto (but didn’t know each other) and we made plans to meet up for a beer or 15 while we were there. Sounds cool enough, right? P1s from CANADA?? We’re in…let’s do this.
It just so happened that one block from the Hyatt we were staying at was a restaurant/bar called Gretzkys. Yes, as in “Wayne Gretzky.” He owns the place and it’s awesome. Good food, killer rooftop patio, and the NHL Network even broadcasts a daily show from there during hockey season. It’s a very cool place and it was decided that we’d meet the crazy Canadian streaming-P1s there. DP and I actually stopped in the night before our meeting to stake the place out. Game 6 of the Stanley Cup playoffs happened to be on that night. (I swear, I thought the playoffs had already ended….woops.) Have I mentioned that people in Canada LOVE them some hockey??? Couple the Canucks love for hockey with the venue we were in and you can probably imagine the atmosphere.
Anyway, fast forward 24 hours and we’re right back in there with The Anus and AP.
The “meet and greet” was a success. In the back of all of our minds was, of course: “what if these dudes are dorks or douchebags or whatever?” We did meet on the internet, after all. But very quickly, DP and I were both happy to learn that both of these cats seemed to be pretty cool, so we relaxed and did what we do best: Drink. Whiskey….all you want!
Toward the ass end of the night, as TheAnus & AP were sharing this ridiculously huge plate of nachos, I see a disheveled old man staggering up to our table from the corner of my eye. Once he gets to our table, he stops…leans his head in towards the nachos…opens his mouth….and just waits patiently for one of us to spoon feed him or something.
Umm….ok. There was another homeless guy right out in front of the restaurant so I assumed this might be his shanty-town buddy or just an additional vagrant. It’s fine…we’ve all dealt with this sort of thing before.
After a couple seconds, the old man kinda slurs, “You got any food for a hungry old man?” I look over at DP, then Anus, then AP before issuing a very clear “NO” in my rudest-possible voice.
The guy looks shocked and very sarcastically says, “Thanks a lot” and walks over to the next table who welcome him with cheers, hugs, high fives and photographs.
Damn. These Canadians are nice to everybody, arent’ they?
Right about then, AP says “You know, I think that’s Wayne Gretzkys dad.” That was immediately followed by “Yeah, that’s him,” so graciously offered by TheAnus.
Ouch.
Here we are in capitol of Hockey-land and I had just VERY RUDELY dismissed an attempt at some good-natured humor bestowed upon us by what amounts to be hockey-royalty. I had basically just told Walter Gretzky to fuck off and die.
WTF?? Can I get a do-over on this please? Let’s try this again, Walt…open up so I can shove some nachos in your grill….there are plenty here, really.
I assume I’m about to get my ass deservedly kicked and I feel awful about what I had just done. So, I load up a plate of nachos and run over to the other table to submit my peace-offering. Of course, I had to wait as he posed for 10 more pictures and signed some autographs first.
In the end, it was all good. He was a great sport about it and laughed it off, although, I’m quite sure it’s because his B.A.C. was in the same neighborhood as mine.
Anyway, that’s my failed brush with greatness. And yes, Rhyner, I know it’s a bizarre story…should I tell it again?
he he he…good times…
do you remember good times?
Maybe if he had brushed his hair, it might have been a different reaction. But watching you run over to him with a plate full of nachos was pretty f’ing funny.
sports
A few months ago I was downtown going to Hooters. I bought one of those homeless guys an order of fried pickles just incase he was Ron Washington.
I love fried pickles.
that’s a great story…tell it again
Such shocking offense to hockey’s royal DNA… great story!
HANG ON A SECOND, BRUTHA!
Can I interject this to save my sweet clean P1 soul from torment, JJ?
When he asked “You got any food for an old man?” I nearly fell off my stool (I was sitting in my own feces, feeding tiny little AP nachos, trying to keep his skinny brown ass alive, brown for reasons other than feces. Yeah, I’m employing stool humor, suck it.) Where was I? Ah yes, falling off my stool. So I grab DP’s shoulder, dunno why him, and not the man confronting hockey greatness (perfectly average human being in the real world, but one of his seamen is beloved in Canada), but I felt the need to tell someone. So in a voice that I couldn’t possibly reproduce today, (think “Is the Black Cloud here?”) I say to DP in a hurry “I THINK THAT’S WAYNE GRETZKY’S DAD!” At this point I can’t remember his name, and I didn’t until my sister told me to “Leave Walter Gretzky alone” after I gayly told her that story while walking to get public transit back home after our UnTicket night out, like a dirty liberal hippie.
Back to Gretzky’s, I’ve told DP, and I’m freaking out. I think I said it a couple more times, and then AP makes sense of what I’m saying and proceeds to tell JJ, because JJ doesn’t speak Canadian, and JJ freaks out, as indicated above, and I try nod and say “That’s Wayne Gretzky’s Dad!” in my best unintentional-fake-drunk-Rhynes voice. JJ jumps up to correct his error and pay homage to a man who is a false idol to millions, something JJ knows much too much about.
“I assume I’m about to get my ass deservedly kicked and I feel awful about what I had just done. So, I load up a plate of nachos and run over to the other table to submit my peace-offering. Of course, I had to wait as he posed for 10 more pictures and signed some autographs first.”
As for this, it should be noted you had a pretty good buzz on at this point, so it was funny to watch you stalk him around the table, buzzed, with a small plate of nachos, trying to ask for his forgiveness. It would have been awesomer if you had turned him into wine or something though…
Good times, AP? It’s always me saying yeeaaahhh-haha, they are.
Great success!
This should be forwarded to Bob… unless he secretly checks this sight out. Now all the Gretzky Dad references make perfect sense.
Great comments, Butt. I’ve re-lived that moment 100 times by now and I had no idea you were laying out on me. Greatness!
As if I didn’t feel enough sports-shame, Poop sent me this link yesterday. (Insert voice inside my head here) “Uhhh….maybe he wasn’t drunk, buddy. Maybe you’re a bigger asshole than you originally thought…”
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walter_Gretzky
Oh man, that is a further kick to your crotch, JJ.
…
Wellp, see ya later!