It Makes Total Sense. (That's What Scares Me.)

Mary: So, do you smoke a lot?
Me: I smoke way too much.

Mary: Do you smoke when you're driving?
Me: I have to smoke when I'm driving. It gives me something to do.

Mary: You are doing something! You're driving!

I'm Giving My Memories Names and Faces.

Hamburger Hal is a seventy-four year old transient transexual. His biggest claim to fame is having shared a fifth with Jack Kerouac in the early 1980's. I know this is complete bullshit because Jack died long before that and even if he had lived until the 80's he wouldn't have shared air, let along wine, with a transient transexual. I believe this despite the homerotic undertones on every page of On the Road.

Marie is a giant of a women - 5'10" if she was a foot. She sits alone in the corner during meals absently twirling her greasy brown hair with one porky finger, coughing and humming the theme to the Brady Bunch as if, somehow, the entire fucked up family will show up at the front doors some sunny Sunday and ask her to join the bunch on a special episode. I figure they'll call it: A Very Brady Bipolar Christmas or something like that.

To be continued....

Sorry Mark. Your Time is Up

Jim: If I could kill one celebrity it would be that girl from Evanescence. What about you? If you could just kill one celebrity who would it be?

Me: Mark Harmon. Definitely Mark Harmon.

Second Fiddle

Me: So, are you seeing anyone?

Carly: I don't know it's sort of it's hard to explain it's really just a long breakup...

Me: That's cool. (It wasn't.) What does he do?

Carly: He's a fiddle player.

It wasn't until later, when I'd had time to think about the unexpected and amazing events of that day, that I realized that if this goes anywhere (it may, it may not, it's not my call) I may end up playing second fiddle to an actual real life fiddle player.

Are You Hungry?

Me: Are you hungry? They're coming down the aisle with food and drinks.

Annie: Yah, but the food on here isn't that good. I don't like to waste my hunger on food that isn't good.

So You Like to Read...

"What are you reading?"

It was something by Leonard Cohen that I had never heard of. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America rested and waited not far away.

"What are you reading?"

"How To Build a Backyard Horseshoe Pit." (Not that I have any intention of ever building a backyard horseshoe pit, but I like to know I know how should a friend ever ask me to help him build his own backyard horseshoe pit.)

"So what was the last book you read?"

I want to lie and say something deep like Tolkien (who, incidentally, I can't stand) or Dostoyevsky or Proust or Hemingway...even Stephen King is more impressive than the truth.

But she's beautiful and when I look at her I say the scariest words most women would ever want to hear:

"Rise of Lord Vader. It's a Star Wars novel."

My secret shame is on the table. I am a Star Wars Geek.

But she's not like most women and she asks me what it's about.

As We Pull In...

Me:I feel like something is either coming to an end or just beginning. So, are the credits rolling or should I call you?

Carly: Call me.

We Admit Our Fate - A Quote from a Cow

I will give my milk ungrudgingly,

To a man with calloused hands,

Who will murder and eat my brother

- Inspired by Amy

A Meeting With God on Spadina

Man: Excuse me sir! I hate to bother you, but I just lost my job, I have nowhere to live and all the money I have in the world is a quarter. Can you spare some change to help a guy out?

Me: I tell you what! I'll help you out if you help me out. Do you know where the Hockey Hall of Fame is? I have some time to kill before I catch a train out of this rainy, humid and speeding shithole.

Man: I do know where that is! Just head down this street, hang a left on Front and walk about 20 minutes. You can't miss it. It's just past the train station.

(A toonie in the hand. A meal on the horizon. Or a bottle, but I really don't give a shit. If he needs medication he needs medication. That's what sustains all of us until we find the Answer. I say a prayer that it doesn't kill him though and call him my friend.)

Me: So, have you ever been to the Hockey Hall of Fame?

Man: Dude, I''m fuckin' homeless. I've got no place in the Hall of Fame.

Me: Neither do I, my friend. Neither do I.

Apparently, it's not the men I aspire to be but the men that are just like me that help me most. And that's exactly what I needed because in less than two hours I was going to face my biggest fear.