It's a weird story, and it doesn't have much of anything to do with school (except that it happened on the way to class one morning). But hey, its part of the whole educational experience, no?

It was the morning of the 2nd day of mid-term examination (which was divided into a written exam and a practical exam). I arrived early and was going to stop at the coffee shop where colleagues John and Fred usually hang out -- forgetting that we were having separate morning and afternoon sessions that day. I chose morning (get it over with) -- they both chose afternoon.

So, its 7:45, and the doors don't open at school until 8:00. Figure I'll study for a few minutes (didn't help...). I've got my notes in my backpack, and I stop momentarily by the Ukrainian church that's along the way to take them out of the pack. There really isn't anywhere comfortable to sit on the church property, and besides I note a tall, older fellow, who I presume to be the church's caretaker -- is walking around with what appears to be a chainsaw (this was at a distance, and had some sort of cover on it). Maybe there are some tree limbs that need pruning, or maybe he's a mass murderer. I dunno. Don't really care to find out.

Across the street (this would be 10th Ave by Main Street) and maybe half a short-block down, there's a Canadian government building with a spot outside where I can set a while and read. There's a homeless person hanging out there; he's friendly, coherent -- and does not have a chainsaw. We exchange pleasantries and I set about my studies.

A few minutes later, the mystery-man from the church (sans chainsaw) walks diagonally across the street/block, obviously on an intercept path to me. He's on a mission, and it isn't to redeem me or counsel me on Ukrainian cuisine. He wants to chide me about leaving my doughnut debris around his dumpster. No, I'm not making this up. (I'm not that talented a fiction-writer).

He's got a partially-eaten doughnut in a plastic bag -- it looked pretty good, I'd have never left such a treat behind. The dialog went something like this:

He: [emphatic] "You're not going to get away with this".

Me: [polite] "I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"

He: [emphatic] "You know what. [vexed] You think you can just leave your garbage anywhere?"

Me: [slightly incredulous] "What are you talking about?"

He: [angry] "This!" [shakes the doughnut in its bag]

Me: [confused] "What. That's not mine."

He: [confrontational] "I know who you are. I seen you [sic]. I can call the cops "

Me: [to myself] "Oh no, not the Doughnut Police! Where'd they get this guy? Am I on Candid Camera?"

Me: [to him, still polite; inexplicably] "You must be confusing me with somebody else"

Him: [really vexed] "I'm calling the cops!"

Me: [resigned] "Fine. I'll be here"

He skulks off. Never saw him again.

I waited for the Doughnut Police until it was time for class. And I studied, figuring that, after I completed my sentence for doughnut dumping, I'd still need to take that exam.

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