501 Queen Street Westbound

501 Queen Street Westbound

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The streetcar was swaying back and forth.

It’s close to midnight and most of the seats are filled.

The only empty seats are at the back of the second car.

He finds a seat, facing south. He is sitting across from her. He can’t believe his luck. This will be a second encounter with this creature, this femme fatale.

Her nails are painted black and decorated with little sparkling gems. Her hair is jet black with peek-a-boo red highlights. Legs crossed. She is absorbed in her music blaring from her ear buds. She is madly texting on her phone. Her face expressionless, eyes outlined in black, lips coloured deep red. Her stockings are fishnet, ending just below the hemline of her tight short mini-skirt. There are 2 inches of bare thigh, exposed and he notices.

She is a mystery, that is precisely her allure.

She doesn’t notice him sit down across from her. The man-boy, holding a take-out bag and jug of milk, wearing nondescript grey jogging pants with a dark blue jacket. His mouth is gapping.

He stares intently at this woman. She isn’t noticing him.

He reaches across the streetcar aisle and taps her on the knee. She looks up from her phone, her music still blaring.

He sweetly tilts his head, smiles and manages a mock-surprised, “Wow, we meet again, how are you doing?”

She is polite and responds with “It’s good to see you, I am doing well,” and brings her eyes back down to her phone, dismissing him.

He isn’t sure what to do. He wants more. He wants a conversation. He wants to let her know how much he’s been thinking about her since the last time they met.

“I’ve tried calling you a few times but I never got an answer from your calls.”

Pause. She pretends not to hear him.

“I hope you are doing alright. I’ve thought about you an awful lot.”

Pause. This time there was a slight kick of her foot in acknowledgement. This gives him wings to fly.

“You look really hot tonight.”

Pause. There is no response. Not even a kick of the foot. He sits in silence. Watching her. He can’t take his eyes off her.

She ignores his presence and continues texting and turns up her music.

He fumbles with the pocket of his jacket and after a few moments produces a notebook. It’s a small, softcover notebook with an elastic band to keep the pages in place. He reaches back in his pocket to retrieve his pen. He keeps his eyes on her the entire time. He organizes himself, with one hand on his book, the other holding his pen. He opens up his notebook and for the first time, he looks down.

The page before him is blank.

He panics. What has he done. He has nothing to write. All he wants to do is talk to the woman, the creature who is tantalizing him from across the aisle of the streetcar.

He realizes his error in judgement, closes his book, caps his pen and puts them back in his coat pocket.

He sits a few moments longer contemplating his next move.

He stands up. His body swaying with the streetcar. The weight of his milk jug sending him twisting from side to side, back and forth. It’s hard for him to stand but he holds the hand rail above his head to steady himself.

He isn’t sure what to do. Maybe he should get off the streetcar at the next stop.

Instead he sits back down.

If she’s noticed any of this, she isn’t letting on. She keeps on texting with those long black, gem encrusted finger nails. And those stockings, riding down her thigh. He can’t keep his eyes off of her. His mouth is gaping slightly. If only he could get closer to her, perhaps touch her with his finger tips.

Then as if his prayers were answered, the couple sitting between him and his prize stood up to leave.

If his baggage was hindering him with his standing earlier while the streetcar lumbered along, it didn’t hinder him from gathering his belongings and snatching up the newly vacated, prime seating.

Within seconds he was beside her. His prayers answered. Her nightmare just beginning.

Breakfast at IKEA

I love rainy days, I may have mentioned this before. This weekend has been superb with all the rain. I like the rain because it gives me an excuse to stay in bed till the afternoon, to watch brain rotting shows and eat ice cream. I’ve done none of the above this weekend, but it’s nice knowing it was a viable option!

Instead I ran errands and ate a hot-dog breakfast at IKEA. I know, seriously, hot dogs for breakfast, I can feel you rolling your eyeballs in disgust. But that is what my radio told me to do this morning.

I was on my way to the coffee shop to use some of the money left on my coffee account when I heard over the speakers “Hot dogs at IKEA, great breakfast food”. I made a right instead of a left and I am happy I did.

I learned something new sitting at that tipsy-turvy, ketchup and mustard stained white IKEA table, sharing my unusual breakfast unexpectedly with a woman and her two little girls.

The smallest was four years old with facial expressions that may give Betty White a run for her money.

It was this little girl that informed me that it’s not in our teens that we may start showing obsessive tendencies towards someone we have decided we like, it is in pre-kindergarten my friends!

“How do you like going to school?”

“I really like it, I have lots of friends. Lots of girls that I am friends with, we talk and play.”

She shrugged her shoulders, held her breath and after the pregnant pause she awkwardly rolled her eyes and continued.

“There is one boy.”

“Uh-huh”, how cute I am thinking she has a crush and she’s going to blush!

“He rides bikes. When I see him I don’t say anything. I just wait for him. He shares.”

“That’s nice of him to share with everyone.”

That is when her face changed. The awkwardness drained and was replaced by an unmistakable confidence. She puffed up her chest, sat a little taller in her chair and declared as loud as her little voice would allow so I would understand.

“He shares ONLY with ME. He likes me and he shares ONLY with me. He shares his bike with me. Just me, nobody else.”

She said it four times just so I got the point. This wasn’t just an ordinary school yard crush, He was Hers even if he didn’t know it and she wasn’t backing down!