Stony Curtis, a couple weeks ago, made a series of re-formatted bus tickets, each one expressing his dissatisfaction with the local transit authorities. They’re brilliant, I have to say. The tickets, not the authorities.
However, he left out one overwhelming absurdity.
So, I take the bus to work today, heading to butt-fuck Laval, Quebec’s version of Long Island. Take the metro to the furthest station on Jesus Island and, as I’m heading out, ask an attendant if the transfer I got in Montreal will work in Laval. That would be a big “no.” Okay, this means I’m going to be out about $6. To go to Laval. I ask the attendant where I can buy a ticket, and I’m told to go to the ticket booth upstairs.
So, I head up to the “billeterie” (ticket window, emphasis on “ticket”), realise that they don’t sell week passes, so I hand $20 over and ask for two tickets. And here’s the conversation:
Heavily mascara’ed ticket agent: What bus are you taking.
Me: The 65.
HMTA: I’m giving you $5 in change. Pay on the bus.
Me: Um, but that doesn’t give me enough change to take the bus back at the end of the day. (Rides cost $2.60)
HMTA: Well, I can only give out change for $5.
Me: But how do I get back?
HMTA: Find twenty cents somewhere.
Me: Are you serious?
So, I take a step back, absolutely douche-chilled by this Kafka’esque situation. Ooo, but then I’m hit with a plan. I step back to the ticket counter where, as has become obvious, they don’t sell tickets and I lay (another) $5 down on the counter.
Me: Hi! Could I have change for $5, please! (All smiling.)
HMTA: I’m sorry, we only give change for $5.
Me: Great! That’s exactly what I want!
HMTA: I’m sorry, we only give change for $5.
Me: But this is an entirely new transaction!
The HMTA sits there, completely confused, the gears grinding rustily in her head, probably thanking her personal Jesus that she’s unionised.
Haven’t written in awhile. But, I thought I’d add this.
Okay, this is just cool.
This is why I never feel the need to prove how manly I can be.
Yesterday, Wednesday, nearly a year after my physical and unexpected confrontation with the underside of a car, I finally got back on a bike. Good times, although I needed to re-adjust the height of the seat, and I need to get used to these newfangled gears. But wow, who knew how quickly you can accelerate on an aluminum/carbon-frame bike.
Also yesterday, after many failed attempts by friends and family, and again nearly a year of gathering dust (don’t judge me), our home theatre is finally (!) hooked up. And all it took was a call to Geek Squad. Unfortunately, it being a Sony system, there’s naturally one speaker that doesn’t work. Regardless, we can now watch videos, listen to music and, most importantly with the little guy coming, use headphones.
But, oh, what made yesterday especially happy was a little line that I read in National Geographic Adventure: “Pale ales lower cholesterol and fight cancer, researchers find.” Were finer words ever written?
So, my secret honey (well, in her mind anyhow. For me it’s no secret), is back to visit me (and only me) on July 9 at Théâtre National.
However, the little guy is expected to make his appearance only a couple of weeks beforehand, so I’m not entirely sure that I will have either the time or the energy for Beth and I to meet up and consummate our imaginary love.
Of course, being the brilliant and logical fellow that I am, my solution would be to swaddle up the little bundle of joy, pack up some mother’s milk, put him in a maya wrap, and bring him along. This way, we get to continue our father-son bonding, he gets a head start on folk pop appreciation, and it gives the milliner a couple hours rest.
Strangely enough, not everyone sees the brilliance in this plan.
Gotta love this press release.
Go ahead. Try it. I’ll just wait here.
Oh, sure, you can try to follow the instructions at the bottom of the monthly email:
“This email should only be sent to those who have asked to receive it.
To unsubscribe, return to the web form where you first subscribed and
click the “unsubscribe” button, or contact the owner of the website.”
The problem is, there is no unsubscribe button. There’s also no indication who the owner is.
I know! You can reply to the Monthly Yulblog sender, that being firstname.lastname@example.org. Oh, damn, you get a Delivery Status Failure. So that didn’t work.
You could contact the owner of the website, if you know who that is.
You could add your site to the list, which is good. And hey, if you’re lucky, your site might just end up in its correct place alphabetically.
But there’s no way to remove yourself from the list. That’s just duckie.