Joined in progress -

MONK 1:

“So, breathing…could be like…what sex used to be like…previously.”

MONK 2 nods in agreement.

Later -

On being a monk:

MONK 2:

“I think it’s harder…to go 9-5 at some other crappy job.”

And – On whether to stay in for the long haul or bail out now:

“Let’s say I go up in another 10 years…come out with 400 grand…I could go up at any minute…carpal tunnel syndrome…do I really need another 100 grand?”

And – On what others would think about bein’ a monk fer so long:

“[They might say] what did you do with those 10 years?”

“I was a monk in a forest…sounds a bit suspicious.”

Why are you laughing?

YOUNG FRIENDLY FEMALE STAFF MEMBER (sweeping up trash gathered at the Brutal Times galoshes):

“People were especially using the floor as the garbage today.”

BT: “That’s OK.”

YFFSM, to CATATONIC PSYCHO DUDE ON COMFY CHAIR BY DOOR (still sweeping):

“Thinking deep thoughts?”

CATATONIC:

YFFSM:

“Just resting?”

CATATONIC (Eyes popping out like raw eggs):

“..wwwwWHAAAAATTTT?!?!?!”

Understand?!?

Joined in progress – 3 young moms are talking, nodding in agreement.

TALKING MOM:

“…and he’s 3, and he already knows the f-word, and says things like, ‘I want to cut your head off.’”

Must be a Montessori student.

Barf.

Young mom to one of 3 kids aboot 4 years of age at her table:

“It’s never good enough for you, is it?”

Picture, if you will, a bright sunny day on a garbage-strewn Toronto bus (known commonly here as the TTC, for ‘Toronto Bus’). In the back, a young middle-class stereomom. Her vivacious hair tied back in a tie, she basks in the warm afternoon son, affectionately tousling the frizzy do of her 5-year-old afternoon son, as he ticks of his favorite playthings.

“I like G.I. Joe, and Batman, and Robin,” he says.

“Uh huh,” comments his mother, sitting mere inches away.

“And Spiderman, and Superman, and Captain America and,” he elaborates.

“Uh huh,” encourages his mom, her face freezing into a sliding mass of mud which begins dripping to pool in the floor beneath her Crocs.

“And Wolverine, and Curious George and Hulk, and…”

“Uh huh”.

“And Batman and Robin and Captain America and…”

“Uh…huh-”

“And Wolver…ine, and G.I Joe, and…”

“Uggh…hugggh-”

“And Spider…man, and…”

“Ugh – hugggggh-”

“But most of all, I love Barbie.”

“Ugh – wha?!?”

“Most of all, I love Barbie.”

People around the bus began snickering. A guy about 60 silences a belly laugh. The bus driver chances a glance at the stereomom and her kid in the rearview.

“Ba-Barbie?!?”

“I love my Barbie.”

Leaning in – “Ssh, Ssh, don’t say that.”

Laughing – “That’s, that’s, soo funny.”

Catching herself – “No, it’s not.”

Lady Gaga sang about the things that really make us tick.

No one was anywhere near getting any play.

Haven’t you heard?

Roppongi is a sausagefest.

Just then Jimmy Jam-san strolled up, the proverbial Business Jesus – a little Sid Vicious mixed in with just a dab of Charlie Sheen circa 1987 Wall Street.

“My dick – is your dick”, he offered grinning from ear to ear.

And then – “I have the yellow feeeever!”

Sidney Charlie!

This young drunkman could be penning speeches for the President-elect.

“Iran – my dick is your dick.”

They’re just words. But they bring people together.

And they come from a place of love.

The Brutal Times is standing reading a Charles Bukowski novel.

A fucker comes up.

“You…liiike it?!?”

Big eyes. Big face. Free English.

“I don’t know yet.”

“He’s…a bad writer…”

“Um. See you later.”

Angry now.

“It’s just…paper!”

Slurks into a hole and disappears.

It was raining outside.