Tuesday, September 23
at 5:49 p.m.
I learned a great lesson yesterday. Have you ever, while walking in the rain, seen those people walking - swaggering even - through the rain without an umbrella? How cool they look. What defiance. What joie de vivre.
What a lie. Those people aren't cool - they're cold. As in cold and wet. I can say this with some authority as I was one of them yesterday. I felt like something the cat dragged in. Or a drowned cat. Or something a drowned cat dragged in. That's it. The reason we (I include myself in their company) seem to exude such a sense of exuberance is because if we don't, we'll look ridiculous. We have to maintain a carefree air to ensure that we don't lose face in front of all those people who were smart enough to check the weather report and carry an umbrella with them.
But, after all is said and done, I must say that it was fun...
St. George Street is the main artery that runs through UofT's St. George Campus. (Hence the name "St. George" campus.) And along St. George - as it is affectionately known - from Bloor to College, one can find at random intervals various ways to eat lunch. There's the usual hot dog stands, but every so often, one comes across a catering wagon. What is that you ask? Well, basically, they're ice cream trucks that have been converted into mobile kitchens. Mobile Chinese food kitchens.
Today, being the adventurous person I am, I decided to give one a try. I stood in line on the sidewalk, waiting for my turn to speak into the little window along the side of the truck. I took a few sideways glances at the menu that covered the whole lower portion of the truck's side. After all, I wouldn't want to appear like this was my first time. Catering wagon virgins receive no respect from us old hands. I can say "us" because now I am one of them.
Anyway, the menu consisted of things like "Pork Fried Rice" and "Chicken Dumplings w/ Sauce". I wondered if I should pronounce things with a Chinese accent to show that I was a pro at this: "Por Fry Rice, Pease." However, when I got to the window and took a look at the person talking my order (and the strange spoon thingy he had in his hand) I decided that this was not the time to mount a display of my assimilation of the Chinese culture. I ordered the "Curry Chicken Rice" and a Pepsi. (No, I was not paid to say that.) For $4.75 I received a can of pop, a plastic bag, a napkin, a plastic fork, one medium sized Styrofoam (it’s a proper noun) container and my meal. My meal was in the Styrofoam container. Everything was in the bag.
I walked a little further down St. George and sat down along the sidewalk. I opened the Pepsi and took a sip. You can’t rush into things like this. This was, after all, my first time. I took out the container and opened it. I look at what was inside. My meal consisted of a lot of rice and a melange of (what looked like) potatoes, three slices of carrot and chicken. The vegetables and meat were suspended in a strange gelatinous yellow substance. Oh, that's the gravy. At this point I lost my plastic bag and napkin to the wind; I am too cool to go chasing after things like that.
And so I ate. After a few bites, I realised two things: one, the word "curry" in this case must have been erroneously used to describe the way in which the chicken was groomed, because "curry" in the sense that we know it was what this food was not; and, the food had burned my tongue. But it was good; surprisingly good considering where it came from... The back of a truck. Ha!
Anyway, that's all for now. Tune in next time to hear about my encounter with "The Crazy Hotdog Lady". Same time, same channel, same idiot.
And thanks to all of you who took the time to accept my invitation. Please feel free to post a comment or something. Tell us what you had for lunch. If you "accidentally" deleted my email, tell me and I'll resend it.
Later,
Chris
Oh. Can't leave without a song. I recently became the proud new owner of Play by Great Big Sea. That's why I've been posting their lyrics so often. Here's one more considering the time of the year and the recent weather.
How Did We Get From Saying I Love You...
"It's a cold day for September", was all I thought to say
When I saw you on the street the other day
I knew something changed between us, all the talk we made was small
But what do you say to someone when they've heard you say it all?
It's an awkward conversation, in a most peculiar way
Chorus
How did we get from saying "I love you"
to "I'll see you around someday?"
It seemed like only days ago, we had so much to say
Did we take it all for granted?, did it all get thrown away?
"It calls for rain this afternoon", you finally replied
Then there was such a stuttering silence, that I felt my mouth go dry
We'll talk about the weather, 'cause there's not much more to say
CHORUS x 2
Has all the ice been broken,
All our surfaces been scratched?
Have all the words been spoken,
Have we finally met our match?
Cause its an awkward conversation,
In a most peculiar way
CHORUS x 3
What a lie. Those people aren't cool - they're cold. As in cold and wet. I can say this with some authority as I was one of them yesterday. I felt like something the cat dragged in. Or a drowned cat. Or something a drowned cat dragged in. That's it. The reason we (I include myself in their company) seem to exude such a sense of exuberance is because if we don't, we'll look ridiculous. We have to maintain a carefree air to ensure that we don't lose face in front of all those people who were smart enough to check the weather report and carry an umbrella with them.
But, after all is said and done, I must say that it was fun...
St. George Street is the main artery that runs through UofT's St. George Campus. (Hence the name "St. George" campus.) And along St. George - as it is affectionately known - from Bloor to College, one can find at random intervals various ways to eat lunch. There's the usual hot dog stands, but every so often, one comes across a catering wagon. What is that you ask? Well, basically, they're ice cream trucks that have been converted into mobile kitchens. Mobile Chinese food kitchens.
Today, being the adventurous person I am, I decided to give one a try. I stood in line on the sidewalk, waiting for my turn to speak into the little window along the side of the truck. I took a few sideways glances at the menu that covered the whole lower portion of the truck's side. After all, I wouldn't want to appear like this was my first time. Catering wagon virgins receive no respect from us old hands. I can say "us" because now I am one of them.
Anyway, the menu consisted of things like "Pork Fried Rice" and "Chicken Dumplings w/ Sauce". I wondered if I should pronounce things with a Chinese accent to show that I was a pro at this: "Por Fry Rice, Pease." However, when I got to the window and took a look at the person talking my order (and the strange spoon thingy he had in his hand) I decided that this was not the time to mount a display of my assimilation of the Chinese culture. I ordered the "Curry Chicken Rice" and a Pepsi. (No, I was not paid to say that.) For $4.75 I received a can of pop, a plastic bag, a napkin, a plastic fork, one medium sized Styrofoam (it’s a proper noun) container and my meal. My meal was in the Styrofoam container. Everything was in the bag.
I walked a little further down St. George and sat down along the sidewalk. I opened the Pepsi and took a sip. You can’t rush into things like this. This was, after all, my first time. I took out the container and opened it. I look at what was inside. My meal consisted of a lot of rice and a melange of (what looked like) potatoes, three slices of carrot and chicken. The vegetables and meat were suspended in a strange gelatinous yellow substance. Oh, that's the gravy. At this point I lost my plastic bag and napkin to the wind; I am too cool to go chasing after things like that.
And so I ate. After a few bites, I realised two things: one, the word "curry" in this case must have been erroneously used to describe the way in which the chicken was groomed, because "curry" in the sense that we know it was what this food was not; and, the food had burned my tongue. But it was good; surprisingly good considering where it came from... The back of a truck. Ha!
Anyway, that's all for now. Tune in next time to hear about my encounter with "The Crazy Hotdog Lady". Same time, same channel, same idiot.
And thanks to all of you who took the time to accept my invitation. Please feel free to post a comment or something. Tell us what you had for lunch. If you "accidentally" deleted my email, tell me and I'll resend it.
Later,
Chris
Oh. Can't leave without a song. I recently became the proud new owner of Play by Great Big Sea. That's why I've been posting their lyrics so often. Here's one more considering the time of the year and the recent weather.
How Did We Get From Saying I Love You...
"It's a cold day for September", was all I thought to say
When I saw you on the street the other day
I knew something changed between us, all the talk we made was small
But what do you say to someone when they've heard you say it all?
It's an awkward conversation, in a most peculiar way
Chorus
How did we get from saying "I love you"
to "I'll see you around someday?"
It seemed like only days ago, we had so much to say
Did we take it all for granted?, did it all get thrown away?
"It calls for rain this afternoon", you finally replied
Then there was such a stuttering silence, that I felt my mouth go dry
We'll talk about the weather, 'cause there's not much more to say
CHORUS x 2
Has all the ice been broken,
All our surfaces been scratched?
Have all the words been spoken,
Have we finally met our match?
Cause its an awkward conversation,
In a most peculiar way
CHORUS x 3
