Friday 1 January 2016

River Song


             

            It took at least two hours of Thursday morning to upload a video to YouTube. I decided to spend the time cleaning up while I was waiting. For most of last year my kitchen has been piled up with things from my bedroom tied up in old and now torn garbage bags. Some of those bags were full of clothing, linen and towels. I needed detergent and new garbage bags, so I went to Freshco. The place was packed with people doing last minute shopping for New Years Eve, or to tide them over till January 2nd. I bought some oranges as well but after the long line-up and paying, I realized I’d forgotten to buy yogourt. I didn’t want to go back in.
            I took two bags of my bedroom things, plus my underwear to the Laundromat, put it all in a washer and went home. When I came back to put the stuff in the dryer I met Greg, my new down the hall neighbour. He was having a discussion with the young guy that was managing the Laundromat. He asked me how tall I was in centimetres. I said “ninety something” but when the attendant suggested that the number couldn’t be right, I corrected myself and said, “A hundred and ninety something”. Greg was trying to figure out how tall a person would be in old measurement if they said they were 182 centimetres tall. We all pulled out our smart phones but I didn’t bother finding my calculator. 182 centimetres is almost six feet tall. I’m 191 centimetres tall. I asked Greg why he needed to know this but he said it was a secret.
            Greg asked about my Christmas. I told him that it was quiet because my daughter lives in Montreal. He said he was going to Montreal for New Years Eve. I asked if he’d ever been there and he said that he hadn’t because he was new to the country. It turns out that Greg is Jamaican. I was surprised that he didn’t have a very thick accent like some Jamaicans. He said that he was from the suburbs. I suggested that maybe it’s like with Newfoundland. There are young people now without heavy Newfoundland accents because they grew up on the Internet.
            The apparently homeless woman with the cart, who shouts obscenities, was in the Laundromat. I noticed that though she still spontaneously blurts things out, she doesn’t curse when she’s indoors.
            I needed more money because I’d spent five dollars of my rent accidentally so I went to the bank and took out some cash. I went back to No Frills and got some yogourt and bananas, and then I returned to the Laundromat and took my stuff home. I watched the eleventh episode of the most recent season of Doctor Who. It was one of those eternal recurrence stories where the same events happen over and over with lessons learned subconsciously until the hero finally finds a way out of the loop. Ever since the X Files did it back in the 90s, those stories have been popping up from time to time. They get slightly tedious.
            I watched the final episode of the most recent season of Doctor Who: Memories turn into stories. Then I watched the 2015 Doctor Who Christmas special, which features the return of River Song. The 21st Century Doctor Who series has had some of the hottest middle-aged women.

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