The Story of the Old Canadian Man

My good friend and travel companion, Chris Craft, and I were in downtown Savannah on the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. We were walking the cobbled stones of River Street when we learned that Harry O'Donaghue was playing a set at Kevin Barry's Pub and decided to step inside to have a listen. The place was cozy, and there were very few people there for a holiday week, but that suited me just fine. Harry was on the stage with his guitar singing away in his mellow Dublin brogue to the tune of "The Wild Rover." Chris and I clapped along on with the chorus, and enjoyed the warmth of the occasion.

After the song, Harry took a small break and a considerably old looking gentleman sat down next to us to have a chat with the waitress on duty. I couldn't help but over hear the Old Man's slight accent and the last part of his conversation wherein the Old Man mentioned that he was amazed that you could smoke cigarettes indoors in America. Out of curiosity I leaned over and asked,
"Where is it that you are from, if you don't mind me asking?"
The Old Man smiled at me and said,
"Ontario."
"Oh yeah? I was just up there a little while ago. All over, from Toronto to the Lake Huron coast. I actually might be going back next week."
"Oh don't do that. Stay the hell out of Toronto. It's bloody cold and covered in six feet of snow!"
We got to talking more, and I learned that he was originally from England and that I had passed quite close to where he lived in Ontario during my travels. When asked why he was in Savannah he told us for the past few years he had come on holiday.
"For years we went to Florida. Then one day we were down there and I realized....Florida sucks!"
He told us he found Savannah charming and the people genuine. Then we somehow got on the subject of Capones, a local billards joint, and he mentioned that he enjoyed playing pool in a place where he didn't have to worry about being stabbed.
"Is that a big concern in Canada?" I asked, half joking.
He sat up and nodded vigorously.
"Oh yes, very much. Have you never been stabbed then?"
I laughed and shook my head, saying no, of course not.
"What? You've never been stabbed?" He then burst into laughter. "I can't believe it! You've never been stabbed!"
I was laughing now, at the sheer ridiculousness of this Old Man. I pointed out that Chris had never been stabbed either. He stared at us, his eyes and mouth wide in disbelief. He then shook his head and laughed even harder.
"I'm going to go back in there and tell my mates that you lot have never been stabbed, and they're not going to believe it!"
Just then his wife came over and he grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Honey, these boys tell me they've never been stabbed! Can you believe it!"
She joined him laughing and said,
"You're missing out."
"Never been stabbed! Unbelievable!"
At that point Harry returned to playing and the Old Man and his wife bid us adieu and headed on to their next destination. We shook hands and as we parted I promised to work on getting stabbed.