Speaking of Toronto

I told Rick I wrote about our trip to Toronto where he used sign language for the panhandlers.

He asked if I told my blogger friends about the 'kangaroo farm'. 

He said that story is quintessential you. You must share that one.

I explain that he likes the story because once again, I'm the butt of the joke. Laughing he said, "No, it's just funny babe. I think they will think so too."

"Yes, I guess, but I'm once again the gullible fool."

"Well?"

Stroke Boy thinks he's funny.

Toronto has islands. A slew of them, that is my professional count, 'a slew'.  We went to an island one afternoon and as we were walking about, the sky opened, and a downpour of rain hit us. We ran into the nearest bar/restaurant just a few feet away. Everyone did. Soaking wet, we all bellied up to the bar. It was a swarm of wet people. 

As it happens, we were chatting with people.

I was seated and Rick was standing to my right. This man who was standing to my left had a great accent. I asked if he was from Australia. He said he was indeed and told us where. I apologized to him that I did not know where that was. He said he had hundreds of acres and he raised kangaroos. 

I chuckled.  

He asked what was so funny. 

I said, "You have a kangaroo farm? I didn't think one raised kangaroos." 

"Oh yes, he says, I sell that meat to McDonald's in Australia."

"Ewww. People eat kangaroos?"

"Of course, it's low fat. It's good for you"

"Please tell me it's only Mickey D's in Australia."

"For now,' he says.

"Is it sold as kangaroo or just as a hamburger and no one knows?" 

"Oh no, he says, everyone is aware, and they love it." 

I had so many questions and he had answers for everything

Now, unbeknownst to me, he had winked at Rick when this whole conversation started so Rick knew he was playing me and the two of them just went on with this story.

We all went our separate ways when the sun came back out. 

As we rode the ferry back to the mainland, I said to Rick that I couldn't stop thinking about the kangaroo guy. I think it's awful that people eat kangaroos, let alone at McDonald's. Rick laughed, gave me a squeeze, and said, "Margaret, he was pulling your leg."

"How do you know, I asked, he may really have a kangaroo farm?"

Of course, now Rick is howling. "There are no kangaroo farms Margaret. They do not farm them I swear. They may eat wild ones, but they are not farmed or at Micky D's!"

Oh, Rick was cracking up now. He tells me that the man winked at him, and Rick played along. 

I said, "So he went back to Australia telling everyone about the dumb American?"

"Oh, I'm sure he did, but, c'mon, you are so gullible it was damn funny. And all your questions. I don't know how he kept a straight face and had answers so quickly for you honestly."

So, there you go, another Toronto story that's funny to others.