good morning all, eh?
I've been in Toronto for two weeks now and wanted to give ya'll a quick update to what has happened. Right now it is Sunday morning on July 2nd and if I go back fourteen days (experience haze of flashback in bad movie)...
Jennifer left with her parents after nearly a month that we had spent together, in LA and then on the road together. It was a wonderful time and it went by too fast, like Christmas presents when you're a kid, you're looking among the ripped up and shredded paper hoping for one last present but none. I went to try and go find my relatives but they weren't home and so I wasn't sure what to do, I sat in my car as it rained and read, feeling very alone all of a sudden. That ended shortly after when I called the next time they were home and I went over to their apartment in a fabulous area right downtown. We went to see Shaft, a classic movie, and I spent the rest of the day in a sort of different haze, reminding myself, damn, I"m in another country right now and I live here. It was a very singular feeling. The next day, after sleeping wonderfully (no, I don't remember but that's what it says in my journal), I wrote a short story called "What's the Plan?" (you can get a copy if you email), got a shirt tailored that I had got a church in Michigan for free and went by to visit Adrian, an English-Canadian who had brought me the finer taste in drunkeness the first time I met him. He was busy plugging along but offered me two Blue Jays tickets for that weekend, just like that, I was stoked! I took my first subway that day with Lauren (my cousin) and we went to her orthodontist appointment. The apartment complex was having a Spring Garden Party and I forced her to go. She said it would all be old and snooty people and that's why I wanted to go, because those people are so unintentionally entertaining. Needless to say, we switched our nametags so these old folks were calling me Lauren and her Jason but seriously folks...
I had been trying to get a painting job but that panned out and then I realized (again) that if there was something I wanted, I'd have to get off my butt and get it myself. The next day was the first day of summer and it was rainy and humid and I got lost looking for a guy named Lefty because he said he'd give me a rickshaw job (where he pulls people along in a cart like a carriage). No Lefty and I sort of wandered up the street not sure what to do but determined in an ambivalent way. There I found Sage Cafe on McCaul Street and there was a tiny sign saying driver needed. An hour later I was driving around with the owner delivering lunches on ninth floors boardrooms and then off to get propane for the barbecue to grill more vegetables. I mean, how life takes its turns, the road actually isn't know at all. That night Linda and I went out for a drink or two with Mark, Lauren's cousin who lives near Chinatown. We hit an Irish pub and then across the park to Rodney's Oyster House, a place that looked like a dive but it wasn't and the oysters were fantastic. There were about ten people in the bar, maybe a few more and people were doing body shots of oysters. They would lie down on the bar and another person would suck up an oyster from the belly button, even if they were an "inny"...
The next day was Lauren's eighth grade graduation near Little Italy and that was typical but still interesting somehow and afterwards, Linda and I went for a drive along Lakeshore and then through Greektown and back, it was one of those drives that I"ll remember forever, the weather was perfect, the scenery eye-joggling and I felt how far I was from my home but I was beginning to feel at home here a bit. I walked to Sage the next day and made my first deliveries, the first one being to a room that was completely empty, but dirty as if they had disappeared because of a tornado. So here I am, with a crate of food for 15 people not sure what to do and then someone says (out of a door I hadn't seen), "Oh, you can put in the boardroom," as if it were no big deal. Right before that, in the elevator, a person expressed interest that I was delivering food there because that company had "moved to 700 University", some 3 blocks away. The next one went okay and then I came back and helped the front counter guy and we were a team making pita sandwiches and such. I enjoyed myself and that's what mattered.
I went to see some jazz down at the harborfront of Lake Ontario that night, it was the first night of the jazz festival and I watched a band called Orishas. They had a DJ, conga player, and three Cuban Backstreet Boy look-alike guys, an interesting combo to say the least. They didn't speak one word of English on stage. The next day Lauren and I went to the Blue Jays game, and had a fun walk on the way home in the Sky Walk to the Train Station because it was raining outside.
The next day was the Gay Pride Parade, the largest one in North America.
I went for pure interest (Ssskkkswsweessrrddfssss) and was jaw-dropped in no time and spent the rest of my day holding my jaw up but it was so damn fun, there were water guns everywhere, even the mayor in the parade had one and was shooting it at people who had high-powered guns. The streets were lined and earlier near the booths, I had an interesting conversation with a bisexual woman and some "bear" guys...The one bad note on the day was that I wore black shirt and jeans and it was hot and humid as hell...
Another turn comes... I go to Sage on Monday and am told that they only need me for "an hour to make some deliveries but (ill-fated part coming up) the place across the alley is just starting out and they probably need some people. Go ask him, his name is Vladimir." I walk across the small alley and there are some guys out the back of the place she was pointing and I ask for Vladimir and they tell me no one by that name but the owner says he is Vincenzo and so that must be it, right? They ask me if I know how to make pizzas as I am telling them that I want to wait tables and I said Nope, I don't know how to make pizzas but I've been a cook before but I'd rather be a waiter. "Well, (and this is in bad Italian-English)maybe we use you for both but come back tomorrow." I do. I help a guy named Gabrielle make bread and some other minor things and then the next day grill some vegetables and make some loaves of bread. I was getting excited and stressed because the place's grand opening was the next day and we didn't seem ready and they knew I couldn't make pizzas but there I was, pretty much in the way and not wanting to do anything first because I wanted to be told to do it first. That became a main point in the heated discussion over getting my money.
We were to open the next day for lunch and it didn't happen. They told me to come back (I hate split shifts)and I did and we had one customer for the whole night. It turns out that that would be the last moment I was happy there because...
the next day was fateful. I crashed my bike on Queen Street, right in front of the Sheraton downtown and scraped up my elbow and knee very good. I was shaken up and had a cold sweat and here I am just a minute ago ringing the bell on the bike and jovial. So I get there to work, still shaken but it was very busy for lunch and it was stressful and I have people (one namely, the bookkeeper) not to listen to them and only do what Gabrielle says and so I say okay. The Peruvian dishwasher and I go for a beer in between shifts and I'm thinking to myself, "I don't want to do this anymore, I don't remember what country I'm in. Hell, I could do this in Timbuktu, Ohio." ya know? The night shift was busy and there we are, at 11:30 leaving after getting there at 11am...this life was not for me.
So, yesterday I was getting ready to leave for work and Linda is slapping me verbally (after I complain about my situation) that that's not why I came to Toronto and I say, "Damn, you're totally right" so I went in and said I couldn't work today and I'd be back for some money. It was Canada Day.
The family plus one (I'm the plus one) went to Kew Gardens and there was a festival with a band, and people chilling in the grass, a radio station broadcasting and general "Howdiness" with Canadian flags and shirts and happiness. I went back by work and had to endure angry Italian faces and demeaning words as I stood there trying to get what was mine. They proceeded to tell me that "Ju dint do nawting here, fockin nawting!" and general pleasantries like that as the bookkeeper tells me that I didn't do the things she told me not 24 HOURS after she was yelling at me to not listen to her and only do what the chef said...yikes. So I escape with some money and I sit here Sunday morning so I did the right thing. I'd be getting ready to go to work again today but instead I'm gonna squeeze in a jog before it rains and watch the soccer game and prepare an article or two for the Toronto Star, the city's biggest newspaper.
(deep breath)
Sorry all, maybe I should do it one week at a time instead of this longer one but basically this has been my life so far and (I know they are reading this) I want to thank my "host family", they have been so nice and accommodating and friendly and mark my words, I"ll make it up to you somehow, even if that means leaving eventually...
peace and enjoy, and I'd be happy to read what anybody else has been up to. Also, the new issue of my fanzine, Lagniappe, is due out on Tuesday, let me know if you're interested so I can get one out to you.
au revoir
Jason
reading "On the Road" again, damn what an adventure!
