Day 59
This morning I stole a waffle from my least favorite French Canadian. The only good part about living in a cultish residence hall is that sometimes people decide to cook and invite everyone. Today was one of those days. Anyway, the French Canadian made the perfect waffle and topped it with a delicious spread of fruit and started to sit down to eat it and I asked him if it was for me. He reluctantly passed it over. I smiled cherishing every bite of the waffle thinking to myself, I can't believe I am eating a waffle made by a jackass with his ass crack pouring out the top of his pants, wait that's every cook in every restaurant back home. At least here I saw him cook the food and know that he did nothing to tamper with it.
We (a group from the breakfast crew) set out to go to a tri-level thriftstore in the "bad part of town." The bus took forever and we played a Bill Nye the Science Guy trivia game until a drugged out bum came and sat near us and said to me, "I think you're really beautiful." (why is it that I only hear that from drugged out crazies?) He poked my friend and started to ask her a series of questions. Luckily, the candystore was at the next stop, we all clambered off the bus.
We got back on the bus and rode for like 3 hours (40 minutes) which was super boring except when we got to the "bad part of town" a guy wearing a boom box got on and played music AND the best part of my day happened. We were parked at a stop and I watched an old woman pull her teeth out of her mouth, rinse them in milk, and put them back in.
After out thrifting adventures I set out with my bodyguard to go to a poetry reading (yuck) well, he said it was an open mic. Turns out that a tiny portion of it wasn't middle-aged women reading poems about men, there was a few younger people reading poems about men, and one very gesture-orientated guy reciting a poem about his ex-girlfriend and one poem vaguely about the bible (probably about ex-girlfriend). The bible one was worth it simply because he pretended to be a movie version of Moses for like 5 seconds. Man, I forgot how exciting open mic night can be (I'd rather watch a badminton tournament followed by a golf game) at least I sat by my favorite gay couple and watched them hold flirty staring contests.
After the poetry we all set out to find a parade of dead souls. We (group of writers) climbed onto a overloaded bus and got to feel the asses of strangers pitted against our own after that we got to meet Charlie Chaplin, Liza Minelli, and an Asian slut with incredible eye makeup. After we peeled ourselves out of the bus and I got made fun of for hand-sanitizing myself we walked twelve blocks to what we found out was a cancelled parade. The parade had been cancelled but there were people throwing sticks of fire and circle dancing to a band with an abnormally large horn section. Among the dancers was a giant owl and an extremely tall girl in a bloody wedding dress and a bass drum strapped onto her mingling both mingled with skeletons and devils. One of our group had red makeup and she drew on our cheeks, she drew a penis on mine.
Anyway, we ended up at a bar where I ate pepperoni for the first time in 7 years (again, what the fuck was I thinking with this vegetarian shit). On the bus ride home we met up with a guy carrying a large pink fuzzy bird head and his group of friends. The bird head guy had a beer in the bird head, the girl next to him had a bottle of wine inside her fur coat and the girl next to her had a tiny purse that held a bottle of whisky.
We got off that bus and walked a friend home and on the next bus back we sat next to a guy that I liked that never emailed me back and across from a guy who stumbled onto the bus carrying a giant flower pot filled with dirt and three smaller pots atop it filled with dying flowers. He dropped the flowers onto the bus floor and picked them back up, turned to the stranger next to him and said, "Look, I made this for you," presenting her with the flowers. She turned away.
That's all I got tonight.
-Canadian Castaway
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