Scenes From A Bridge

Every day for the past month I’ve been walking across the Cambie Bridge to catch my ride to work (during the wonderful BC Transit strike), and every day I’ve participated in the weirdest part of one person’s daily ritual. Each day, there’s a man I see crossing the bridge in the opposite direction; usually I only recognize him just as he’s about to pass me, and by that time it’s too late. You see, this man’s ritual is to bark at me.

Or oink.

Or cluck.

Or say “Ugh!” like James Brown.

It’s weird. It’s not like he’s abnormal in any other way. He’s well dressed, carries a backpack like 80% of the Vancouver population, and carries himself with the air of someone on their way to work. Why does he do this? I have no idea. Maybe he’s just trying to exorcise that little crazy streak in himself before he gets to the buttoned-down work environment. Or may it’s some kind of social experiment. I wonder what he expects me to do, or wonders what I think of him for carrying out this bizarre ritual every morning. Every morning I leave my apartment with the intention of confronting him, but by the time I recognize him it’s too late.

Perhaps the man’s purpose is to spread this ritual as some sort of counter-culture meme; am I failing to uphold my social obligations by choosing not to cluck at the next person I pass on the bridge? Or is this some weird joke? Well, there’s nothing that says I have to take this lying down.

It’s time I clucked back.