[undercoverbrother]

Originally Posted by CliffFletcher

Mac's stories:

1) When my buddy and I were about 13, we tok the rubber mat that ran from the Oakridge Community Centre to the outdoor rink, rolled it down to the strip mall on Palliser Drive, then to the front door of the Mac's, blocking in the kids playing Joust. We thought it was hilarious. Then the the cops came, threw us in their squad car, and threatened to take us downtown and charge us. Then they took us home and did it all over again in front of our parents. My dad and I were reminiscing about this the other day, and my dad says the cop was winking at him while he explained that they might press charges, and all the while I was shaking in my rugby pants at the front door.

2) At one point the Oakridge Macs was run by a Polish couple. Harridan of a red-head and her placid, browbeaten husband. Owing to her accent and demeanour, we called the woman "Mama Hitler," which really pissed her off. Her husband would never look you in the eye at the till, and would mumble while he gave you change. Once we realized he was just mumbling random numbers, it became one of our stoned things to get munchies and then listen to the guy mumble "fifteen, seven... three, nine... seven" while he gazed blankly over your shoulder and dropped change into your hand. He also didn't care if people shop-lifted. I suspect he indulged our hooliganism as a way to get back at his wife.

Those stories were good, but I thanked your post for the use of "rugby pants".