~ Yesterday on the subway a pretty average looking middle-aged man was reading a Star Scroll horoscope. He’d read it and roll it up shaking his head. He looked worried. Then he’d unroll it again and frantically scan the words with his eyes again then roll it up and stare at the ceiling.
~ We went back to the wool store to buy more wool for the scarf Nicole is knitting me. When Nicole put the balls, gold and red, on the counter the mop-of-grey-haired woman said, “Wizard colours. What are you kids up to?” with an expression of rapt fascinated interest. We stood there a little stunned and she repeated, “You look like you’re up to something mischievous. I must know.” I explained it was a scarf and then she asked what we do. Turns out she used to be an at-risk youth worker and also a graphic designer. She also had similar glasses to ours. I was a little dismayed she recognized the Gryphendor colours right off the bat. I was hoping no-one would ever notice. Ever. Especially before the garment is even completed. I’m going to have Potterheads coming up to me on the streets all day.
~ The other night some of Nicole’s Victoria friends visited us. Al, the husband, said to me while the girls were downstairs, something about Nicole having grit. I said, “Yes, I told her she was like a pirate the other day. She didn’t like it much.” Al said, “Naw, that’s a compliment. Yeah, to get by in this life you gotta be with someone who’s lived after dark.” As I was fighting back a shocked guffaw, he repeated sagely, “You gotta have lived after dark.” He then analyzed my handwriting.
~ Walking down Queen I got tangled in a cassette-tape which was unraveled on the sidewalk. The wind suddenly gusted and it swarmed me in front of Rotate This which provided one of the employees (on a smoke break) some mild amusement while I began to panic and tangle myself further in my attempts to rip the attacking black twine from my feet and legs.
~ I went into this amazing design bookstore on Richmond Street West (477 to be exact) called Swipe which Nicole had been telling me about. It’s the kind of store you could drop about $500 dollars in if you were so inclined and so liquid with cash you were in danger of drowning in pennies.
~ I has the seriously most glacially slow check-out person at Honest Ed’s yesterday. I think she may have been in a coma. I couldn’t decide if I should check for a pulse or grab my items out of her hands and stuff them in a bag myself. The only person more annoyed than me was probably the person behind me in line. Or perhaps the several people behind them. Each time I’ve gone to Honest Ed’s I’ve had an experience ranging from vaguely to acutely unpleasant. I may not return.