Thursday, 12 January 2017

Thanks for Letting Me Rent Your Apartment While You're in Prison



            On Wednesday morning I didn’t have any bread but I had a bag of pancake mix that I’d gotten months ago from the food bank and so I decided to make that. It just called for water, so it obviously already had powdered eggs or some equivalent but I added two eggs anyway so as to feel like I was actually making something. They turned out so well I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t have been horrible without added eggs.
I needed to go out to the bank and then the supermarket, but I waited till evening when my boots and clothes were finally dry after coming in from the rain the night before. I rode down to the bank machine at King and Dufferin and then up to Freshco. My stomach seems to be coming back on line after the cold, though I still have an aversion for bananas. I bough some grapes, raisin bread, no meat because I still have lots of baked beans as well as some ribs in the freezer. I think I can handle yogourt again and I decided to try 2% milk in coffee instead of 3.25%. I bought a six-pack of Lifebuoy soap, a bag of peanuts and a can of peaches.
            The grocery store was packed and I wondered why. Maybe the weather on Tuesday held people off from their shopping or maybe Wednesday evening is just a busy time. I never noticed it before.
            The line-up for the express checkout was long but I figured it’d be faster than the other ones. After I’d taken a place in line another guy turned the corner and laughed as he saw how long it was. Then he looked at me like I was someone he knew well but hadn’t seen in years and said enthusiastically, “How’s it going?” I said I was okay. Then he told me, “Nice haircut!” “Thanks.” “What do you think of mine?” He looked like he was in his early thirties but he was bald from his forehead to just past the very top of his head where the bald pattern made a perfect semi-circle at the back of which was a rich crop of wavy hair. “Ah, it’s okay.” “Thanks!” Then he added, “It’s difficult when you wear a hat!” “Yeah, in the winter.” I agreed. A stock person came down the aisle pulling a palate of produce. The guy behind me read his nametag and said, “Hi Alex!” “How’s it goin?” “My name’s Tyrone!” “Hi Tyrone!” “I’m gonna own this place some day!” “Well, that’s it!” “My picture’s gonna be right up there!” “Okay!” “Ya never know! Anything is possible!”
            A woman in line for the other cash was holding all of her items in her arms instead of a basket and she dropped her package of pita bread. I waited a few seconds and saw that she wouldn’t be able to pick it up without putting everything else down, so I shifted my basket to my other hand and stooped too pick it up for her. She gratefully accepted it into her hand and it became once again part of her carefully balanced armful.
            I noticed that all of Tyrone’s items were packaged items, half of the salty category and half of the sweet. He had to return the cherry turnovers though because he only had $15.00.
            I rode to the liquor store. The gravel voiced panhandler was singing David Bowie’s “Star Man” acapella while dancing to the rhythm of a much faster song.
            There were two tall guys standing in front of the bike stands so I had to say, “Excuse me”. One guy needed to make it clear to the other that he was in my way. They moved aside. For some strange reason I was having difficulty locking my bike. Twice I unlocked the lock and wound the chain so one end ran under the frame at the front of my bike and the other end over the top, because I find that way keeps the wheel from steering out from the stand and thus causing the bike to collapse like a handcuffed drunk. But this time I wrapped it and locked it, only to discover that I had locked my bike to itself and missed the stand entirely. Then, embarrassingly it happened again. Maybe I was distracted by the conversation the two tall guys were having. The guy with the beard asked the other guy, “I thought you and Rudy were gonna get a place together.” He answered that Rita is going to go to jail for at least a year so they were going to take over her apartment and have a place to live for a year. But he added, “Rudy better watch his spending!” Then the bearded guy inquired about this: “I heard you’ve been sleeping eighteen hours a day. What’s up with that?” I didn’t hear the answer because I finally got my bike locked and went inside. I bought a can of Creemore and went home.
            I heated up some more of my baked beans and in the last 15 minutes threw in a couple of the pancakes I’d made, but they burned to a crisp so I had to heat up two more. I watched the last two episodes of the ninth season of The Big Bang Theory. It looks like Sheldon’s mother got it on with Leonard’s father.

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