The Most Heinous Insult in All of the English Language

Ventured into the Eastern realm of Toronto's urban core this morning after hitting a couple of buckets of golf balls over at The Beach Fairway driving range. (Don't ask.. more on that probably tomorrow) Since we were in the neighbourhood, El Chauffeur and I decided to stop for brunch, so went to The Willow (Tex Mex Bar and Grill) on the Danforth. Pleasant enough spot, sat on the empty patio out of range of the screaming kids at the back of the place.

Had the Alaskan Eggs Benedict (an odd but tasty mixture of crab and guacamole) and the Little Bit of Everything (standard eggs/bacon/ham with a cornbread twist). Waitress was very friendly and attentive, never once forgetting about our lonely selves out on the back deck, keeping coffees refilled without ever having to ask.




Now, Sheena has a confession. She's been what to is usually called "The Swill-o" once before. About 2 and a half years ago.

Was out with a rag-tag bunch of wits and gits and one fine lady in the bunch rather loudly noticed that a noted local sportswriter/author was hanging out at the bar a few feet away. I can't quite remember how the conversation started, or who said what first, but he took a bit of a dislike to our look. She might have made some crack about his writing. He probably took a shot at her mouthiness. The banter bobbled back and forth and until the conversation became ruder and some of the rest of our krewe came to the lady's defense.

His attention diverted towards the rest of us, singling out the littler guys first.

And then one of the gang uttered the fateful epithet. What we quickly learned was the vilest, most horrific comment one man can hurl at another. In an effort to get sportswriter guy to sit down and shut up, our guy yelled out: "HEY! Bob Seger! Why don't you just sit down and take it easy". Sheena had no idea that "Bob Seger" was such a heinous insult, and had such power to provoke. But sports guy rushed over towards us and went nose to nose with the epithet-hurler. I could smell the warm beery halitosis from 2 paces. His eyes flitted from person to person, seeking out a weak link that he could target. Thank god we had some upstanding bouncer-types with us, who rushed to the defense of their drinking companions.

Physical violence was averted, though narrowly. But not before Bob Seger went up to one of us sitting at the bar and flicked the cigarette right out of his mouth with a disdainfully curled finger.

And to this day I still can't bring myself to watch Risky Business again.