The Newfie

So I'm sitting minding my own business and doing a crossword puzzle when out of nowhere a man actually says "I think 2 down is DADA". The clue is PC Food. "DADA?" I say. "AS IN THE SWISS CULTURAL MOVEMENT?" I ask, confused. "No - D-A-T-A. Get it? The computer eats Data?" Ah Hah! I get it. Of course. I smile and fill in the boxes. What just happened?

I peek to my right where the man is sitting and he looks to be in his late 50s wearing a Bantam team hockey jacket. He is smiling and leaning towards me, eager, eyebrows raised, grinning. "What else are ya' stuck on? I just love those things. Do quite a few myself!" Oh Jesus. I sigh put my crossword on my lap. This is it. The moment of surrender. The point of no return. You can either continue to do your crossword and answer with one word responses hoping he gets the hint that you actually don't want to engage in conversation to pass the time because you have your crossword to pass the time. Something like a "I''m okay thanks. Take care. Bye Bye then" would do in this scenario. Or - you can be a decent human being and humor the guy. "Bhutan locale?" I reply.

I can see my fellow commuters assessing the situation. They look up from their Metros, one lady even takes out her earbuds to eavesdrop. "How cute" I can hear them thinking. "They're going to share a puzzle now." We get to talking, I fill in A-S-I-A (how moronic of me!) considering I'm surrounded by their entire immigrant population - how could I have been stuck on that?

I proceed to learn all about this man's hobbies and that he's going to see the Leafs play the Thrashers and that his daughter is pregnant and lives in Newfoundland. Then he tells me that where he's from was actually a war town. That a German submarine was found in the caves in in the farthest inland port in Canada. That he's a first generation Newfie and that his parents are British citizens. That he worked for a company in Kitchener for 18 years. That he and his wife watched every second of the Olympics in their heated garage. That he once picked up a young girl who was a hitchhiker who was from Colorado and who said the Canadian Rockies are more beautiful than the American ones. The rest of this man's stories were endlessly entertaining and most of them started and ended with the mention of a big rig. I had to cut him off mid-sentence. "Buh-bye then. Enjoy the game!" I said as I made way to the doors. "Bye dear - keep up with your crosswords and don't cheat!"