On the early Tuesday afternoon of August 23rd, I walked around to the alleys behind my building to see if I could find any trace of Amarillo, but there are so many places in this neighbourhood where a cat could be.
In the evening as I headed out for
my bike ride the clouds looked like crumpled crinolines floating in the breeze.
I raced
with a long line of cyclists heading east and ended up out in front before we
got to the Bloor Viaduct.
I rode to
Monarch Park and Danforth, and then wound my way between Monarch Park and
Coxwell as I went north to Milverton.
My
ass was getting sore as I went back down to Danforth. I probably could have
made it home without stopping to pee, but I needed an excuse to relieve my
behind, so I stopped at Starbucks. I unrolled a couple of meters of toilet
paper from their dispenser and put it in my pack, because I was all out. That
little walk was all my butt needed to be able to comfortably ride back home.
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