Motherfucker. My morning routine was thrown for an unexpected turn. Every morning I wake up, fuck around the apartment for a spell, then head down half a block north on Broad Street, south on 13th, cut across the parking lot behind the gay bar, cross Rose Street, cut through the parking lot where the old bus depot was, and head north on Hamilton Street to Victoria Ave. I cross Vic and walk into Atlantis. I order a small coffee (room for cream) and a Saskatoon berry muffin. I then sit in my spot, read the newspaper and write in my blog.
This morning, at 9:49am the door to Atlantis was locked. I just stood there… blinking… staring at the hours of operation sign. They’re supposed to be open by now. I just wasn’t sure what to do. Water is wet, the sky is blue, and Atlantis is supposed to be open. My present situation was a reality that I just couldn’t readily accept. So I walked east on Vic and headed north on Scarth Street. There, I found an empty table in front of O’Hanlon’s and surfed the internet until I felt Atlantis would once again be open. The ghosts of last night’s debauchery were still hanging around, even though everything was closed.
Yesterday I helped my friend Jenn move. She organized a convoy of friends and we just picked up her shit from 2200 blk Lorne St, and walked it a half block east to her new apartment on 2200 blk Cornwall. There were about nine of us and it only took about 45 minutes. We spent significantly more time afterwards laying on the grass in front of her building, drinking beer and eating grapes. It later occurred to us that hanging out in front of her building and drinking beer in a public space was probably illegal, and none of us recalled ever doing anything like that before. Yet, it felt so natural… so natural in fact that it took two hours for someone to clue in that we might actually be breaking the law. Of course, none of us cared, but it was still a cool thought to think.
It was a really great day.