Invisible
Sometimes I get superstitious.
I can't be the only person on the planet for whom a twenty minute wait at a restaurant before finally getting up and walking out happens at least 10% of the time I go somewhere alone to eat.
It can't be that service is typically that bad.
I must have invisibility powers.
That has to be it.
* * *
The last couple of weeks have been busy.
One peak event was last night, which, before I was distracted by the unfortunate absence of my car from the place where I had parked it, consisted of a visit to Teen Angst Poetry Night at the Cafe Montmartre.
Coordinated by the editor of a book of the same name, this event essentially consists of an open mic night style arrangement in which people bring the most awful loathesome poetry they can dredge up from their miserable teenage years, and expose it to the world — or at least to the people who happen to be in the cafe at the time.
The results are thoroughly amusing, and seem to have the effect of providing not only some good groans and belly laughs, but also the purging of some age-old school-era demons.
* * *
Other tidbits:
When a Greek taverna offers an "appetizer platter for 2" on their carry out menu, there's probably no reason to worry whether it will be enough to suffice as dinner for two people. There's a decent chance you can live on it for a couple of days.
Hamsters bite really hard. Especially hamsters who are not morning people. They can also stuff practically a whole carrot into their cheeks if they think you look like a hungry vegetable fan.
Riding the Endless Vertigo Escalator of Doom after work in the Granville SkyTrain station, I spotted a girl whom I'd also seen on the way to work in the morning. She was walking up the middle of the three escalators, and without warning fell flat (or steppily) right on her face. She stood back up and began climbing the escalator steps again only to fall again a few steps later. You wouldn't believe me if I said she then fell a third time, but indeed she did. Perhaps it's time for someone to buy shoes not made of those new earth-friendly banana peel soles.
* * *
In case you were wondering, after walking out of the initial restaurant where I had invisibility practice today, I wandered down to my building manager's outstanding Ukrainian restaurant on Denman, where they always recognize me even after several months, and can serve up some of the best borscht and cabbage rolls anywhere. And pierogies too, of course, though I decided to be nice to my belly today. Assuming a big bowl of beet soup can be considered nice. Nevermind.
I can't be the only person on the planet for whom a twenty minute wait at a restaurant before finally getting up and walking out happens at least 10% of the time I go somewhere alone to eat.
It can't be that service is typically that bad.
I must have invisibility powers.
That has to be it.
* * *
The last couple of weeks have been busy.
One peak event was last night, which, before I was distracted by the unfortunate absence of my car from the place where I had parked it, consisted of a visit to Teen Angst Poetry Night at the Cafe Montmartre.
Coordinated by the editor of a book of the same name, this event essentially consists of an open mic night style arrangement in which people bring the most awful loathesome poetry they can dredge up from their miserable teenage years, and expose it to the world — or at least to the people who happen to be in the cafe at the time.
The results are thoroughly amusing, and seem to have the effect of providing not only some good groans and belly laughs, but also the purging of some age-old school-era demons.
* * *
Other tidbits:
When a Greek taverna offers an "appetizer platter for 2" on their carry out menu, there's probably no reason to worry whether it will be enough to suffice as dinner for two people. There's a decent chance you can live on it for a couple of days.
Hamsters bite really hard. Especially hamsters who are not morning people. They can also stuff practically a whole carrot into their cheeks if they think you look like a hungry vegetable fan.
Riding the Endless Vertigo Escalator of Doom after work in the Granville SkyTrain station, I spotted a girl whom I'd also seen on the way to work in the morning. She was walking up the middle of the three escalators, and without warning fell flat (or steppily) right on her face. She stood back up and began climbing the escalator steps again only to fall again a few steps later. You wouldn't believe me if I said she then fell a third time, but indeed she did. Perhaps it's time for someone to buy shoes not made of those new earth-friendly banana peel soles.
* * *
In case you were wondering, after walking out of the initial restaurant where I had invisibility practice today, I wandered down to my building manager's outstanding Ukrainian restaurant on Denman, where they always recognize me even after several months, and can serve up some of the best borscht and cabbage rolls anywhere. And pierogies too, of course, though I decided to be nice to my belly today. Assuming a big bowl of beet soup can be considered nice. Nevermind.