Yesterday, I stopped at the bank and parked on a busy downtown street, without purchasing time from one of those fancy shmancy meters that are so far apart, that it's a gigantic pain in the ass to purchase said ticket.
I figured I would go in and see what the line looked like and if it was long, I would go back and purchase some time from the meter.
I walked to the door and saw only two people in line.
This bank always has a line up!
So, I naively go in and take my place in line....little do I know that there are only two Tellers working.
After about 10 minutes in line, I figure that one customer must be negotiating a mortgage, while the other must be doing the year end audit for a small country.
I was in the bank for over 30 minutes, far longer than I had anticipated.
Well, I headed out of the bank and down the street....and...what?
"Dude, where's my car?"
There was a large cube van parked where I left my car.
I got that "holy shit" feeling.
The one that says, "I've got a ton of shit to do this afternoon and my briefcase and everything is in my car!"
I got my cell phone out and started to dial the towing company telephone number from the sign right in front of me, while walking toward the cube van...only to realize that the cube van was hiding my car.
The sense of relief was overwhelming.
Have you ever had your car towed?
I have, and it was an experience I will never forget.
See, when my car was towed...I was already late to get somewhere.
I was pissed.
When I got to the trailer/towing company "office", I walked in shouting about being towed, which immediately resulted in two Great Danes jumping up onto the cell-like bars that went from the counter to the ceiling, and barking.
Which resulted in silencing the absolute shit out of me.
The people behind the bars could only been seen through a cloud of cigarette smoke and the trailer reeked of stale smoke.
It was disgusting.
Listen, I'm a smoker.
If I say it was disgusting, it was disgusting.
The woman that approached the counter only removed the smoke from her pie hole while she repeated over and over, "cash, VISA or Mastercard" while I tried to argue with her about the ridiculous amount of money she told me I had to pay to get my car out of the pound.
Frankly, all of them should wear masks while they collect money.
While I was paying, two men came in shouting just like I did when I came in, which alerted the two horses disguised as Great Danes to commence the barking routine, which silenced the two men and scared the shit out of me for a second time.
I got my car, and fought the $20 ticket that was an insult to my injury.
I had the opportunity to go to night court.
Ever been to night court?
I paid $8 for parking.
Spent 2 hours at Old City Hall.
My ticket was thrown out.
My visit to night court was worth the price of admission.
It was entertaining.
The Judge was hilarious...
He was sarcastic, and mean
...but not to me.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Thursday, July 22, 2004
A Conversation With a Child
About an hour ago I had the following conversation with a child who was brought into my office, hysterically crying.
I waited until he completely calmed down and then asked him to explain why he was in my office.
The conversation went like this:
"Ok...so...like...my sister was pretend marrying my friend Fabricio? And...um...I was going to be...like...the...the, um...Best Man? And then, I was..um...walking her up the isle...and then, umm...she said she didn't want me to be the Best Man anymore?"
"So what did you do? Did you hurt her in some way?"
Me: "So why are you in my office?"
Him: "I stopped the wedding."
Me: "How did you do that?"
"I wouldn't give the ring back."
The Cracks in Crackdale
Everytime there is a long weekend, I come back to work to find more vandalized public property.
It grieves me to think that the young people who live in this neighbourhood are so desensitized that they would actually get pleasure from destroying a beautiful old school that has been here for over 150 years.
The fact that the repairs (if they ever get done) cost the taxpayers of this city almost triple what it would cost to be fixed by a private contractor because of the inflated rates that the school board charges to get their own maintenance contractors to do it.
What amazes me about this phenomenon is that there is all this pissing and moaning about the city not giving a shit about this neighbourhood, but it's the residents themselves who trash it.
Let's face it folks, if you live here and don't give a shit about it, why should anyone else?
Sunday, July 04, 2004
Listen Up White People
I am forever amazed by the graciousness of the black people I know who tolerate the ignorant little faux pas made unknowingly by well meaning white people.
Last night we were visiting with my sister in law and her husband when a neighbour happened by.
He was friendly and humourous and very welcoming.
He invited us all over to the front of another neighbours house for drinks and chat. There were a number of neighbours there already and the drinks and chat were flowing.
Now, generally when I am with my inlaws, I am usually in the minority as a white person. To say that I have never experienced a bias or ignorance being the minority at an event would be a lie...but I do not experience it regularly, therefore it is easier for me to swallow than it would be if I had to deal with it daily.
Last night I heard quite a few little inappropriate "jokes" made, and quite a few gracious accepting of those jokes with a touch of satire mostly from my brother in law.
I have such a feeling of shame and apology when they have to accept these stupid little ignorant comments meant as "jokes". I know that with many white people, the attitude is "What? Now I have to watch everything I say? I have to be politically correct?".
You just have to put yourself in the position.
Stop bringing it back to race.
If you're Italian, do you want references made to the Mafia and pasta regularly during conversations?
If you're Irish, do you want constant references made to the Irish being big drunks?
One joke, ok.
One every five minutes, not ok.
In other news,
I finally rented "Love Actually" on Crabbys recommendation.
The opening of the film exposed one of my secret loves.
The arrivals level at the airport.
I was instantly in love with the film.
I love the arrivals level of the airport.
People don't understand why I'm so willing to pick them up from the airport if they are coming in.
I am a suck, and love to watch people re-uniting.
As the movie stated, "when I lose faith in the human spirit, I visit the arrivals level at the airport. It's there that love is all around us".
The arrivals level is the place for this.
Go to arrivals when you're sad and feeling hopeless.
Rent "Love Actually" for a little boost for your spirit.