Our dirt bikes bring all the boys to the yard. Damn right, they're better than yours.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Violated by Toronto















I've totally just been molested by the city. Didn't think it was possible to be violated by a whole town, did you? Well, my friend, let me tell you: it's so awesome.

I left about 2.5 hours ago to go meet Dave, Alana and the Muckers for drinks. A walk to the subway, a subway south, another subway west and a bus ride back up a little North and, suddenly, I'm in Stabtown, population me! In front of me is a big concrete bridge that looks like the edge of the world, to the left a street full of sketchy and to the right a long row of boarded up store fronts. "That rules!" I think to myself, daring to walk about a block in each direction before realizing I've totally gotten off at the wrong stop.

So, it's off to the payphone (I live in 1996 where people don't have cellphones), where I look for Dave's number in my purse only to be interrupted by a bald -- yet somehow still greasy looking -- man in a beat up oldsmobile. He asks me how much, mistaking me for a hooker. I die a little on the inside. This is when I decide it's time to vacate stab town and head back to the bus stop, but sadly, no bus appears and after 10min Stabtown is not growing on me as a crazy guy walks past, yelling things to himself and carrying on an argument with what I like to think was God. Oh, and a stumbling Jamaican man also felt the need to say hello and call me sexy. I die a little more on the inside.

This is when the adventure goes from awesome to wicked-awesome and I start walking back towards the subway stop as it seems even the cabbies don't hang out on the corner I'm on -- and we all know, if it's too sleazy for cabbies, you'll probably lose your kidneys there. The walk is long, my shoes disastrously impractical and the sites – some fucked-up church run by mental patients and streets deserted aside from really sketchy-looking types – leave something to be desired (i.e. everything). I’m not really sure where I’m going as I wasn’t paying much attention on the bus. Finally, I find Bloor, see Jesus, get harassed about 5 more times, get on a subway (where a crazy homeless woman with no shoes is screaming about how she needs food, runs between cars, shoving people and asking for money) and head for home. A subway ride east, another subway north, a walk back home and I’m ready to punch Toronto in the soul.

Stupid city. Why have you turned on me so? Haven’t we been good to one another? I know we’ve had our differences, but, lately, we’ve been doing so well and I though we really had a chances. I’d break up with you if you weren’t so damn connected.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh Hadler,

Hasn't living in the big shitty taught you anything ... such as wherever there's a Stabtown, two blocks away there's a block of condos and a Stabucks. We were anxiously waiting for you on the other side, so sad you missed the beer. It do take the edge off the crazy people buzz.

CMT

9:18 AM

 
Blogger enthrall said...

Toronto doesn't love you. It never will: it will flatter you, use you, then never call. Not like Edmonton. Edmonton's desperate for your love.

Ah, what the hell do I know - I ain't never been anywhere. Is Montreal still the city of my teenage-angst-fuelled-Leonard-Cohen-dreams?

C.

11:48 AM

 
Blogger Kristine said...

Ah, Stabucks. Only in Toronto.

7:00 PM

 
Blogger Heather said...

Toronto is a horrible boyfriend. Abusive. Smelly. Loud. Confusing. Full of garbage. But, I think he only hurts me because he loves me too much.

wait, that made no sense. shit.

9:17 PM

 

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