I spent part of my morning at that very same Tim Horton's store, typing up a DVD review for Generation X's irreverent movie magazine. The concept of "The Stinky" was INVENTED in that store, and as luck would have it the two ARCHETYPAL examples -- who we naturally called "Mr. Stinky" and "Mrs. Stinky" -- were sitting in the store and having a bizarre argument.
Mrs. Stinky was clearly brow-beating Mr. Stinky in her creepy, phlegmy, piercing, almost unintelligable voice. I couldn't hear a word HE said (and I could barely follow her side of the conversation either), but here's the most accurate transcription I can give. I think it offers some insight into how the Stinkies communicate with each other:
No I'm not goin! I'm not goin! Nope! I'm not goin! No I'm not goin! I asked you three years ago, forget it! I'm not goin now! I'm not goin now!
You screwed up! What? What you mean? Where you goin? Sit sit! You screwed up, didn't ya? You screwed up good, didn't ya? Didn't ya? You screwed up good, didn't ya? We could-a gone three years ago. Why didn't ya? Why didn't ya? Why didn't ya? Nope, I'm not goin now. I asked you three years ago, didn't I? I'm not goin now. I'm not goin. I'm not goin noplace. You said no. I ain't got time for it.
You can fix it so they have-ta come here.
5 comments:
Wow. There's a weird sort of poetry to it when you see it written out like that. It's one of those things that's fascinating as long as you don't have to get too close to it.
Hmmm, I was thinking she was talking about couple's counseling until I got to the last line.
Now I think she's talking about his grown children from a prior marriage.
Yes, I often make things up backstories for strangers. :)
Yes, poetry, I thought the same thing! I originally typed it out just because I couldn't concentrate on anything else while she was yelling, but when I read it back I thought, wow, this is sort of captivating.
She said a lot of other things that I didn't understand, but these statements are the ones she kept repeating, so I gradually deciphered them.
And Hilda, yes, I was almost DESPERATE to know what they were talking about! It would seem to be a monumental subject -- she was so vehement, and the last time they discussed it was apparently three years ago -- but keep in mind that the two of them have oddball priorities. This could have been about which Taco Bell they wanted to eat at.
You know, I bet you're right about the children. I don't know if Mr. and Mrs. Stinky are actually married, but they're certainly a match!
I'd forgotten about it until now, but a few years ago, I saw a shirtless, weathered-looking fellow rummaging through garbage bins on Yonge St, and was moved to transcribe his constant muttering. I still remember it.
"Ba shoom raa, naga daga bo bunchee da bum dah," he intoned, over and over, like some sort of mantra. Perhaps it had been a sentence once and slowly mutated. Maybe it was a mantra, or a spell. Or some nonsense he invented to amuse himself. I'll never know.
Or maybe it's a comforting, ritualistic noise? The way that a mother's "shhhh-shhhh-shhhh" can be.
A long time ago I suffered periodic migraines, and I found that I could keep my sanity during them by groaning and making comforting sounds. This may be why mantras themselves work...they provide focus and comforting ritual...?
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