Hello friends.

What have I been up to in Toronto recently? Oh, just listening to a cabbie tell me the saddest story of all time. You know, NOT MUCH. 

I was cabbing home through an industrial part of Toronto at midnight. And I don’t know, maybe I prompted the cabbie to start talking. Maybe I said, “Where are you from?” and he took that to mean, “Yo man, what’s everything sad about you from the beginning?” Maybe.

In any case, here’s what I learned: He was an old Greek man, three times divorced and living alone. He’d left Greece decades ago and desperately wanted to return, but he felt it was too late to start over. He had kids here, and grandkids. 

We pulled up to a red light and he said, “I feel like a lion in a cage here. A lion in a cage.” Then he paused, turned, stared into my face, and asked, “Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes,” I said. “I…yes. I know what you mean.”

“A lion in a cage.”

“A lion in a cage.” 

“You understand?”

“Yes.”

“A lion in a cage.”

Now, okay. That’s sad, right? PRETTY SAD. But let’s leave that for a second to introduce the second character in this story, someone I’ll affectionately call Kevin, but I definitely don’t know his real name.

We’re waiting at the light, going back and forth with this lion metaphor, when all of a sudden this guy in a wheelchair comes tearing around the corner. He’s in a wheelchair, and he’s driving down the middle of the road. And he’s laughing maniacally.

And he has Down Syndrome. 

And he’s wearing a birthday hat.

Kevin.

Kevin tears past us, takes the first turn and disappears into the night. This all takes about eight seconds. Eight seconds earlier, I’d had a pretty strong opinion about what was possible in this universe. But as we know, the universe is EVER-EXPANDING.

I pull my eyes away from the shadowy street Kevin just disappeared down and look up at the cabbie, who’s just seen what I’ve seen. But here’s the thing about the cabbie: he’s unfazed. He’s still consumed by his own sadness. And what I say to him is something I’m very proud of. I say, “So… do you have family back in Greece?”

Who am I, friends? Oh, you know, just A PILLAR OF RESTRAINT.

Just the WORLD’S MOST COMPASSIONATE MAN.

Did I want to ask him more questions about Greece? Oh no, I think it’s safe to say that another more interesting topic had reared its beautiful, birthday hatted head. 

BUT THIS WASN’T ABOUT ME. This was about a sad old Greek man in need of a stranger’s attention. I wasn’t going to change the subject when he was opening his heart to me — even though every fiber of my being wanted to say, “Pardon me, sir. I’m sorry to change the subject, but…did you see that?”

“Oh and sir, I know this might cost me extra, but…could you follow that man?”

Or simply: “Sir, I — blurrrgh” [brain melts, mouth fails to register, blurrrgh happens].

It felt like I had been tested by — oh let’s say — God. I’d been telling myself, “I’m a compassionate man, I’m going to give this sad cabbie my undivided attention,” and this made God say, “Oh yeah? We’ll see how attentive you are when I distract you with LITERALLY EVERYTHING.” 

“MIDNIGHT DOWN SYNDROME BIRTHDAY WHEELCHAIR ATTACK!”

God’s first ever test was an apple. Nice and simple, right?

Oh but THESE ARE DIFFERENT TIMES, friends. An apple won’t cut it anymore. No, today God’s tests are apparently just a living breathing version of the Internet. 

“Oh hey, Mark, you just listenin’ to that Greek dude? Alright cool. Oh but hey, just real quick check out this thing I made from everything I found on 4chan. OH SORRY DID THAT DISTRACT YOU A LITTLE?? HAHAHAHA YOU FUCKING IDIOT, SUCK MY DICK I’M GOD!!!”

Well guess what, you crazy God. I passed your test. With flying colours. 

But here’s what I’m left with, besides a series of very obvious questions like “Seriously, where did Kevin come from?” and “Whose birthday was it?” and “Was his name Kevin? It was probably Kevin, right?”

I’m left with the memory that even after witnessing this Greatest Of All Moments, the Greek cabbie just kept going on about his own personal sadness. I understand that you’re sad, Greek cabbie, but honestly, if the universe is going to go out of its way to fill your life with small hilarious miracles like Kevin, and you can’t even take pleasure in those, then that’s on you, sir. That’s on you.

But I’m sorry about your life.

Suck my dick I’m God,

Mark