501 Queen Street Westbound

501 Queen Street Westbound


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!

Sex and Dating Guide for Idiot Girls

This is a completely inappropriate post BUT hear me out.

The other day I was ready to clock a 19-something year old girl upside the head. I couldn’t believe what was coming out of her mouth. Instead of resorting to the physical admonishment (again not a word), I took a deep breath, counted to 10 and changed the subject.

As much as I dislike settling, I am settling for this rant on my blog.

Girls there are rules. I know its fun to pretend they don’t exist and the older you get the more frustrating these rules become but they are super important for self-worth, self-preservation and above all self-love.

We all go through our own journey that shapes us into who we are. I doubt there is one story that is alike.

Here are the rules and I publish these rules on the authority of stories that have been shared with me by friends and acquaintances and splattered with some of my own advice. You may not agree with everything and that’s ok – I welcome some good banter on the subject:

1. Have a solid group of Girl Friends who are YOUR friends. These do not come a dime a dozen and are sometimes hard to find but this is your number one priority. If you can’t find one in your age group, find someone older who you can trust. Girl Friends are your most valuable asset, they will catch you when you fall and cheer you on to the finish.

2. The booty call is NOT your boyfriend. Let me repeat myself, casual sex is not your boyfriend. Stop calling him that, stop confusing yourself. Recognize what is a booty call and if you can’t figure it out ask your Girl Friend and be prepared to be wrong.

3. If you are booty calling (which I highly discourage) don’t be stupid, wear a CONDOM. And if you don’t, be prepared for the aftermath.

4. If you start feeling emotional attachment to your booty call, cut it off. Seriously ladies, you’ll spend years licking your sore wounds instead of living. Sex is not THAT special.

5. If you are faking orgasms regularly and are with someone you care about see a psychologists and/or your medical doctor, there is no shame in getting to know yourself.

6. I am no doctor but if it isn’t pleasurable it is possible that you are “not that into him”. That’s right ladies, it is possible to not be that into a guy especially if you didn’t take the time to get to know him and connect with him. Maybe he’s all sorts of wonderful but if that emotional connection is not there…good luck to you. I am pretty sure this is standard, men are highly visual, women are highly emotional (I know it sucks). But when you have a strong physical (for him) and emotional (for you) connection, there are no limits and it will be the best thing in the world.

7. Get to know yourself first. Its fun being in a relationship. Those first three months is like being on an extended vacation in the sunshine (or whatever your fantasy is). Then reality sets in, you’ve just invested 3 months into someone and you aren’t so sure anymore. When you know yourself you’ll learn not to give everything you’ve got at the beginning. You’ll learn to temper, to wait and to give what you’d give to any new stranger you might meet. You’ll look for how he responds to you on the things you do decide to share and you’ll make a decision on if you feel safe. Save the best of you for when you know your heart and head are at the same spot. If he doesn’t like your street personality, why the hell bother showing him what is behind the curtain. Its not a game and you could say you are protecting your assets and that is ok. That is what dating is for, you give a little, take a little and then you go skinny dipping and its a blast! Stop skinny dipping the first time you meet – where is the fun in that? We are all more complicated and interesting, let’s embrace it, let’s discover who we are!

8. Be yourself.

9. This one is the same as 7 sort of but I just need to hammer it home. Understand why you want a relationship with a guy. What is it that you feel is missing that this relationship is going to help you find. If it is going to help you find yourself don’t waste yours or his time and stay single and learn about yourself. Figure yourself out first. Being in a relationship should be about being with a best friend not a prize or a possession or social status. I know the stigma around being “single”, “unmarried” and “childless” as a 30-something single and why does anyone care?! Its ok not to conform to society in every shape and form. It is better to be healthy and single than toting a badge of married in a loveless relationship, seriously where is the fun in that?

10. I feel like I should have a tenth haha, but I think I got everything out that I wanted to say to my 19-something year-old. But I suppose I am missing one. Be honest with yourself. It is no fun hurting someone just because you weren’t woman enough to accept something about yourself. It goes back to know who you are and why you are out there wanting to be with someone. This is life, not a board game, not a reality TV special and most decisions we make will affect somebody in one shape or form. Let’s do our best to make it positive and stay happy and healthy – this world doesn’t need any more pain.

Ladies feel free to add anything I might have missed and guys, what’s your take?

A Girl’s Dilemma

A Girl’s Dilemma

The "forever" Boots
Last week I had a miserable encounter with my feet. We had a major disagreement.

Deciding what to wear on typical morning is usually a dilemma and after moving into a Retail job, the dilemma has been amplified. A suit would be uncomfortable, dresses usually need heels and pants are boring. To be safe, at the beginning I wore my trusty black pants, a smart top and flats. I must say, it is comfortable and uncomplicated!

However, my heels were moaning about their neglect and I was starting to feel the need to wear something with a little more flair.

I picked a day and arrived to work in one of my favourite dresses and heels. The day was going smoothly and I had two hours to go when I was asked to stand at the front door and greet any customers coming into the store.

This particular day was slow and as I looked at my watch and realized “2 hours to go”, it took everything in me to smile politely and go stand by the door and start praying fervently that a customer would arrive and relieve me of the torture my feet were surely to endure.

That day I learned there was a reason for my original wardrobe choice which brings me to where I am sitting at this very moment.

Bayview Village.

Its been a year that I’ve been looking to replace my most comfy flat boots. I’ve been putting it off and got away with it by just simply wearing heels.

After my torture session, I decided to put all my effort into finding a flat boot to go with most everything I own including dresses. Off to the mall I went last Monday to, yes, buy those boots that were on-sale-twice! I was so excited.

As you imagine, the on-sale-twice boots were no longer in my size. Disappointed but not to be defeated, I trekked to every store in the mall looking for something suitable.

Did I ever find a suitable boot! They also came with an extravagant price tag with a guarantee they will “last for YEARS!”. In a state of daze and slight panic, I pulled out my wallet and put a “down payment” on the super boots. They were being ordered in from another store and I could pick them up in two days.

For the next two nights I had wonderful dreams about the surreal boots. When Wednesday came around, I rushed out of work and off to pick up my prize.

Well, the right boot was ever so slightly misshapen in a way that would not have bothered me if they were more within what I was expecting to pay in the first place. I told the sales girl and she dismissed my reservation by stating “These boots will last FOREVER, they are ONLY one of two pairs that exist in the COUNTRY!”. She definitely thought I should keep them regardless of any defect, the defect in her mind was nothing compared to the uniqueness of the style.

To keep her and myself happy, I asked where that other pair might be, which is Bayview Village.

It is Thursday and here I am – I’ve gone and peaked at the ONE other pair in the COUNTRY and exchanged boots.

My dilemma: is my sanity and happy feet worth the cost of these beautifully, hand crafted “one-of-a-kind”, forever lasting boots and will they outlive me and do I want that!?