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Wet Brain Todd Versus The Glaswegian

Wet Brain Todd Versus The Glaswegian

10-3-12

There were four passengers on the shuttle: Felix, (a tall, lean Vietnam Veteran with a hat stating so), Wet Brain Todd, a small young Eastern European woman, and myself. As we waited for Time To Go the driver and I were talking about China’s new aircraft carrier. This went on to the dispute between China and Japan over a set of islands. Felix, whom I know to have opinions worth hearing, entered the conversation. He began to make a point, and I was happy for his input.

However, Wet Brain Todd, who had appeared to be unconscious, began mumbling. As the mumbling didn’t seem to be words, and Todd’s eyes were closed, Felix assumed it was drunk sleep babble, and attempted to wait it out. When the mumbling lulled we all assumed Todd was done, and out. Felix resumed speaking,

And so did Todd. He apparently thought the subject at hand was not worth a discussion, because “IbeenAfghasstanIkillfifteenmuhfuhkin’people. Sowhat? Maaaaaaaaan.” All this with his eyes closed.

To be clear Todd was not in the current conflict in Afghanistan. He’s 50, going on 51. He claims to have been in Afghanistan when he was 17. He’s claiming to have been in Afghanistan in 1978. When we had NO ONE in Afghanistan.

He also claims to have had a Fight Club behind Gilley’s, where he’s made $500 a night fighting people.

Todd says many things.

Felix attempted to resume talking, Todd would not let him. He kept slurring some crap about “Iknow’bouthisshit”.

The tension finally peaked when he said “Nonono. Iwasinthemilitary. Iknow.”

At which point Felix leveled a look so incendiary that I thought Todd’s breath and hair would catch fire. He then announced that he was going to be quiet, as he didn’t want to be the source of disharmony. There was some minor back and forth between the two men, but an unhappy silence descended over all of us.

There was a feeling that things could turn really ugly with one wrong word. Todd had even offered to step outside with Felix, though the latter was too civilized to indulge. It’s an awful form of tension, and we smothered under it.

About 90 seconds later I spied a cyclist approaching through the mist.

“Incoming Bike”, I announced. The driver moved to help the rider rack their bike. Unfortunately Todd, now awake, noticed my turn of phrase.

“Incom’nbike? THATsoundsmilitary, maaaaaaaaan!”

‘Fuck’, thought I. ‘This will be the worst ride ever.’

Then driver and rider entered the shuttle. The new arrival, a man from Glasgow named Chris, said in his burr “Hoo’s eerrrywahn doon tanay’?”

Most mumbled ‘alright’.

Todd said “Hey, ‘scuseme. Wha’youjus’say?”

“Doon’ werrry, suhn. Whan ye bin in the coontrry a coopla yeuhrrrs yull beguhn to pick oop tha acsuhnt. Yull underrrstahn’ tha prrroper Anglish we speak ‘roond heerrre.”

“Wha?”

“A coopla yeuhrrrs. Yull be floont.”

I was snickering at the lovely break in tension, but this wasn’t the end of it. Todd had more questions.

“A’youGerman?”

That brought the laughter. Felix followed up with, if I recall correctly, “Can’t you hear he’s Russian?”

More laughter.

“Nuh. Se’iously. Whe’yafrom?”

“Istanbul.”

More laughter.

“Huh?”

“He’s a big Turk, Todd.”

“Really?”

More laughter.

Meanwhile we’d set out for Kittery. During the ride every time Todd said anything it was instantly upended by Chris, and spiked by Felix. He finally just sat and looked mystified at everything that Chris said.

Eventually even the young woman, who had been trying to be quiet, and avoid notice while Todd was ramping up, was laughing freely.

As we neared the end of the ride Chris said “Ut’s ulwehs an advainture ahn the shuttle. Yuh ne’errr know hoo yerrr gwin to meet. Boonch a crazay Uhmerrrricans. And a Scotsman!”

“I thought you said you were French!” said Felix, as Todd said something like “Wait, wha’?”

Todd stayed on, the rest left, and we all had a laugh. Todd fell asleep in his seat.

As he was leaving Chris pulled up next to Todd’s window and pounded under it to wake Todd up. He then shined his bike light into Todd’s face.

“Wehk oop! Ye’ve to goo hoom! Arraight?! G’Naight!” And he rode off.

As we stood outside reviewing the ride, from in the shuttle the driver and I heard “Thefuckdude! Thefuckin’sjgagndanognroagaoighhjsdhgk!” 90 seconds later Todd figured out how to undo his seatbelt to come out a yell at ME for waking him up.

The driver corrected him and pointed at Chris’ back as the man pedaled off into the night.

Swaying in place and confusion, Todd said “Awmaaaaaan…”

And I left, thinking at some point I need to thank that Glaswegian for rescuing that whole situation from awful, and turning it into one of the best gut laughs I’ve had in while.