For the most part, I like living in the city. I can get greasy Chinese food at 3:30 in the morning if I wanted or pop into an all-night diner that will cater my ferocious craving for scrambled eggs. One of the drawbacks, however, of living here is that it’s kind of difficult meeting people, sometimes you can feel disconnected to everyone and everything. But then there are times when those random encounters with Toronto’s “colourful” inhabitants make you wish you never came out of your apartment.
I got up this morning with a determined attitude to battle any challenges foolish enough to take me on today, and if history has taught us anything (and it has a-plenty) it’s that you can’t go wrong overestimating your capabilities. I decided to stop and get a bagel on my way to work. Coming out of the Tim Hortons, I was confronted by a homeless guy who asked me for some change, and for the first time in a long time I happily supplied him with his request – living in the city has also made me weary of pan handlers. It’s not that I’m a bitch, no that’s not the reason AT ALL. So anyways, still in my positive mood I decide to tell him about how I’m starting a new job today and that I feel like I’m beginning a new phase in my life. Apparently the homeless guy, who calls himself Mr. Easy, also swears by the same positive outlook. Wow, connection! And then he proceeds to tell me that the best way to capture the essence of this feeling of re-birth is to crack an egg on top of your head and let the broken embryo trickle down your face. My reaction was:
Let it be known that Tim Hortons between 7-10 a.m. is the peak time for the crazies, where the day patients, homeless people, and yuppies are all getting their morning fix, just in different ways. Oh Toronto! What will you throw my way next?! A streetcar driver with elaborate S&M fantasies? Quiznos "sandwich artist" who has a song ranked number one in Israel?
copy right of the purple banana, thaz moi!
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