Last night I took the 98 B-Line out to Richmond to see Chris’ art at the 25 Year Anniversary of the Richmond Art Gallery. I used yahoo maps to find where 7700 Minoru Gate was, but it gave me 7700 Minoru Boulevard, which was KINDA close to the art gallery, but not close enough that I didn’t spend 40 minutes wandering around trying to find the place. Eventually I had to ask some nice Jewish fellow de-embarking from his minivan where the hell I needed to go. So when I got to the gallery Chris & co were just about to leave. I held them up some looking at the art and then of course Chris was accosted by various people and then Lindalarm arrived even LATER so the old folks were wasting away. Of course whatever photographer was there taking pictures made me make the pose that I was making in the painting when he shot me. Oh THE INDIGNITY!
But apres that we went to a restaurant called Kelsey’s and Angie made jokes about my taste in cheese*. Good thing her mom paid for the meal or she’d be in trouble. When the kids dropped me off at the bus depot they were all terribly worried that it was too late for the buses to run and that I’d be stranded in Richmond and murdered or summat. Of course the bus runs until after 1am and it was probably something like 10:30, and the bus came 7 minutes after they dropped me off. HOWEVER – later on these kids got on and they were DRINKING BEER ON THE BUS!!!! For shame! Actually I was confused because their beer cans had a similar design and colour scheme as Coca-Cola. Smart move, Molson. Except it smells like beer. They were trying to be all, yeah we’re so cool holding up the newspaper to hide the fact that we’re rebels and drinking booze where and when we’re not supposed to, except that being awkward teenagers they were spilling it all over the place and being incredibly conspicuous. I was thinking if the beer companies really wanted to get the kids hooked on the hootch, they should design the bottles to have the plastic re-cappable bottles that look like Hires root beer or something.
We meet again, underage drinking. How are you?
And then this guy gets on who has the exact same green-striped zippered hoodie as me and when he gets halfway across the bus (it’s one of those superlong accordian buses, for those who don’t know, and I’m sitting at the very very very back) I am thinking:
Oh no. Okay just sit down up there. No. Stop. NO. NOOO. DON’T YOU DO IT! DON’T YOU FUCKING DO IT! OH YOU BASTARD.
Sat down right next to me. Now everyone on the bus is going to think we’re on a team. Well I got sour news for you, Jack – I would never be on a team with you.
*It’s betta with feta.