The Person I'm Next To Is Denying His Lethality

I'm next to a swordsman. We are riding in and elevator together. Me and a swordsman in and elevator! This is, in case you are wondering, as awesome as it sounds, maybe even more awesome. He is somewhere just toping five feet, and is widely built with a little bit of chub. He is bald, and has a close cropped beard. Even with out his sword, he is dressed ridiculously. He has on a red fuzzy hoodie, not fleece, fuzz. His pants match. His pants match. His pants match. Match his red, fuzzy hoodie, they are red fuzzy pants. His shoes are bright white leather, and are extremely clean, probably new. He is wearing those future sunglasses you get when you have your eyes dilated, and he looks happy to have them on. This is all wonderful. The sword strapped to his back makes it more wonderful than I ever could have hoped for. The hilt is wrapped in white tape, and it is in a black nylon sheath. Without the sword he looks like a homeless man who skinned many Elmos for his outfit. With the sword he looks like a homelss man who skinned many Elmos for his crime fighting costume.
I have to ask, "Whats the sword for?"
"It's not a sword, its a saber."
"Oh... isn't a saber a type of sword, do you fence?"
"A saber isn't a sword, its a type tool for the marching band and things like that."
First off a saber is a sword. Secondly what the fuck do you use a saber for in marching band? Thirdly what is a 'thing like' a marching band? Isn't any thing where you play instruments and march around a marching band? Is a marching band composed of only certain types of instruments? Before I can bring up any of these points of ask any of these questions. We arrive at the bottom floor, and he is gone. Like a dimly remembered dream.
A saber is a fucking sword.

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