I’m strolling across the Commons. I’m excited to try out my new camera. The sun is starting to drop. In about ten minutes the light will be really nice for photos.
I’m working my way through the camera’s bewildering maze of on-screen menus when the delightful sound of a child’s laugh makes me look up. And just in time too! Five little rascals on bicycles, out on a play date, are bearing down on me at break-neck speed. I’m amazed their little legs can peddle so fast. I’m also quite surprised to realize they are headed straight for me! I manage a single side-step before the first bicycle whizzes by. I believe “Fuck-head!” is the cheerful greeting from it’s young rider. I didn’t even have a chance to respond before the second little scamp stretched out his arm, apparently attempting to knock my glasses off my face. Oh, what hijinks! Well played!
Riders three and four fire off a salvo of colourful epitaphs as they streak past (why is it you always think of what you should have said twenty minutes later? Oh, well, I don’t think I could have matched wits with these Baby Einsteins anyway).
The fifth little dickens shoots me an icy glare and quite unexpectedly brings his trusty bike to a halt. As a little cloud of dust settles back down to the dirt path, we locked eyes for a moment. I think perhaps he is about to apologize for his colleagues, something along the lines of “Please excuse my associates, the joy of riding free on such a beautiful day has them giddy with glee. I assure you they meant no harm.” to which I would reply, “Oh it’s quite alright! I was young once. It’s just youthful shenanigans getting a bit out of hand.”
But an apology is not what this plucky pup has in mind. He shouts to his playmates “Hey! Let’s take this guy’s camera! Hey!”
But alas, the others are already out of earshot. There will be no easy escalation of this tomfoolery today. Perhaps a bit crest-fallen, the little lad stands on his peddles and is away. Without looking back he salutes me with a single raised digit.
I realize that I’m holding my breath. I heave a sigh of relief. Then it occurs to me that I have been royally duped! These tykes on bikes have tried to make me think they are Haligonian hooligans, young thugs in training. But no! This is not the sort of place where children run wild, thieving and terrorizing willy-nilly. This is Halifax, a quaint little city, where people have a pride of place and respect for their fellow citizens. We don’t raise that sort of children here.
Boy, they really had fooled for a minute.
—Mr. Naive
This article appears in Jun 11-17, 2009.


umm…yeah we do. I would have stolen the little punks bike.
What little assholes.
I would have kicked his tires or something! Lil fuckers!
What age range are we speaking here?
Yeah then you get charged for abusing a minor buzz..it’s bullshit. If the little punks can dish it, we should be aloud to give it back.
Oh, those little dickenses! Was this written by the cheese guy?
What is wrong with so many of today’s youth? What the heck is happening? This makes me very sad. Very sad indeed.
After the first kid, I would have thought “he’s a retard, whatever”; but when the second stretches his arm, that’s when my foot would had met his rear tire, sending the little prick in a tumble. And with any luck the third one would have run over the bike/kid wreck.
Hahaha scammed on the commons? Too funny. A few years ago, I was on the commons teaching a friend of mine how to roller blade. A few other friends had shown up and were tossing a football around. My frined and I left the group and proceeded inwards toward the fountain – he was on skates, I was not. He got the hang of it and was getting ahead of me. Next thing I have a hobo-looking guy on a bike riding along side of me. Making small talk etc – me trying to be polite and not appear too threatened, I kept on walking.
Next thing I know, he pulls out a tattered hustler magazine, asks me if I like “that shit”. I kinda nervously laugh and somewhat ignore him. Then, he offers to sell me said used skin mag for $5.
Several things that are just wrong about what happened to me:
1. I don’t like looking at naked women – but this guy prob. didn’t know that, so I can’t REALLY hold that agaist him.
2. Even if I did like said magazine, why in the fuck would I want a used one. E-fucking-ew. Nasty.
3. I was 23 at the time and always looked older – obviously, I could get one (probabally for not much more than $5) that has not been masturbated to by a hobo with free turning pages at any corner store / magazine shop.
4. Why would anyone out on a sunny afternoon in a public park like the Commons want to buy a skin mag – I am pretty open about sexuality, but I don’t often feel the urge to “feed the geese” behind a bush with a magazine bought from a hobo in the Halifax commons – and if I did feel such a need, I would not act on it.
5. There is this amazing thing now called the Internet. Does anyone even buy porn magazines anymore?
Point being: Commons = sketch. I feel safer walking through Queens Park in Toronto at 4 AM drunk than I do in the Commons on a Sunday afternoon.
Watch Eden Lake, then decide if you really want to mess with the pissants.
Respect isn’t a given… you have to earn it. Sometimes that’s by your reaction, sometimes it’s by your lack of reaction, but,… kids don’t just think “old person, must be kind”. They think. I’m going to fuck with people cos I can, and if they react in a way that makes it more fun to escalate, SWEET!
Here I thought it was going to be a “I bought a $10 Rolex” scam.
Little twits.
Don’t feel bad, there was a group of young people standing by the walking trail over here in Dartmouth that were making funny at everyone walking by. Had some of the women a little scared from it. But what can you do… nothing. Young people are getting away with everything nowadays because of their age. They know they can and will continue to do so.
Exactly sometimes
ustwess – Too funny – I have a friend who was offered the used skin mag from a hobo deal before too (in Calgary) and it was a Hustler too. Could Hustler be the official porn mag of hobos?
Mayhaps it is… if so then I ought to get me into the hobo bidness.
I would have choke-slammed the last kid. I’m not kidding, I don’t care. What is he going to do? I know five little kids aren’t gonna take me that’s for sure. Punks need a lesson…I would be glad to provide it.
Gran Torino.
Or carry a white cane so they think you are blind, then whack the little f*****s.
Just grab that last kid and literally DRAG that piece of crap to the police station on Gottingen!!!
was this a bitch? looks more like a novel to me. I just wasted my time reading this for a corny ending? why?