Vancouver: Tim Has Some Sort of Seizure

While standing outside a restaurant waiting for a cab, I admired Tim’s Pea Coat.

“I’m intensely jealous of your Pea Coat,” I said.

Tim glanced down at himself, then at me and my single-breasted overcoat. “I’m jealous of your coat,” he said.

“No, damnit, you’re not,” I replied. “I gotta get me a Pea Coat like that.”

Tim shrugged. I shrugged. I pulled the corner of my mouth up and shoved my hands in the pockets of my non-Pea-Coat coat.

Tim looked over at me. “I don’t know about Scott Bakula,” he said. “He just doesn’t seem like a starship captain to me.”

I picked up my eyes from where they had fallen out of my head and used them to stare at Tim incredulously.

“I mean,” he continued, “That Captain Janeway was too real for me, like a real naval captain or something. But Scott Bakula is too, I dunno, Scott Bakula for that show.”

“You’re not seriously discussing this with me,” said I.

“I am. I mean, look, as a time traveling do-gooder he was fine, even great, but as the first captain of an interstellar spaceship?”

“Dear God.” I said and picked up my eyeballs again.

Tim was feeding on my dismay like those Harry Potter bad guys with the robes and the flying, and I considered mentioning that to him, but that would have only kicked him into overdrive. Instead I put my hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

“It’s a helluva coat, though. A helluva coat.”