i'm just like you

I don’t want to change. I still think that my tortured soul is endearing and that my childhood traumas make for great idiosyncrasies.

The Lucky Ones

Last night I left work shortly after 7:30. I had a bad day and wanted a friend around for a quick drink. So I called a few buddies to see what’s what. They were all busy or tired, as most people are on a Tuesday night, but I would have settled for just about any friend at that moment. And before I could finish that thought, a familiar face came staggering towards me. He had his arms open for a hug and a big smile plastered on his face. I gave him a hug and chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I smiled and thanked the universe.

He was high on something other than ganja. Something more potent, numbing and depressing. We sat and talked while I sipped a Caesar I had been thinking about for the past 3 hours. At 35 he stopped teaching to become a washed up actor. He now works in a kitchen on the Danforth and lives with his mom in Scarborough. It was nearly 8pm and he was still out from the night before. I stopped him from going over to last nights John to ask for money in exchange for a quickie. So he leaned over and asked me to buy him a drink and lend him a smoke and some bus fare.

That's it. Not that interesting, huh.

toilet etiquette

Today I walked into the single-person women’s bathroom to rinse out my mason jar immediately after another young lady had used it.  I learned a lot about said lady based on the pungent odor that instantly shooed me out of the stall. I know things about her that I don’t need to know. 

I actively endorse the use of air freshener, incense or even matches after each and every bowl movement.