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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Saturday, an early morning searching for garage sales, a few but none of merit. And I think to round the day off with a few thrift shops when I remember that there's an antique show at the Thorncliffe Community Hall on Center Street, and so I make my way there.
Less discouraging than the garage sales, and sometimes you have to elevate yourself a bit above the typical rubbish and have a look at some real treasures. The antique fair, small compared to others that come through town, 2 small rooms, maybe 50 or 60 dealers, many of whom I know from the flea markets. For the flea market vendors this is it, a chance to show off their rare and best treasures, but I don't really want to visit with them, I see them every other Sunday.
Of the 60 or so stalls there half are easily rubbish. The same tat you'd find at the flea market, a few stalls it's even worse, simply old people clearing out their rubbish and confused about what an "Antique" is.
There are, however, a few worthwhile stalls and vendors I don't see so often. One has a collection of North American Artifacts, stone mauls, arrowheads, another has specialized in Victorian jewelry, some old brooches and pendants with the woven hair of the dead inside, interesting rings, some bronze bookends (and I need bookends), Millet's "The Gleaners" cast in bronze, $30.00, a more appealing art nouveau set with a naked woman hoisting the eternal flame, $150.00, good but not that good, books, but none worth owning, I make three passes over each of the rooms, find a couple of good watches, I treat myself (it's been years since I've bought a decent watch) and consider it an early retirement gift.
And that's it. Reasonable prices, modest selection, they could have been a little more picky about the dealers they invited, but if I've bought a watch it can't be that bad...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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A contrast to Wednesday, when I got great things done, created lengthy lists, went out and did them, came home and appended to them, then did those chores as well, today was a day of getting absolutely nothing done.
A few garage sales, found about the neighborhood - a pair of antique brass candlesticks - 1860 or so, $2.00, ironically with the antique dealer's $180.00 price tag still attached, some tie bars for the boys at work, a couple of books, in short nothing worth mentioning (apart from the candlesticks).
A couple of failed attempts at napping (vivid dreams but brief naps), out for dinner (vegetarian, tasty...), scan a book or two, Safeway for some bananas and that's it.
Now - with luck, an hour or two on other people's web stuff (I'm so done with other people's problems, this is the final project I tell myself, but we have to see..). And that's it.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Outside a cool, steady and gentle rain. Grey, overcast, it would be sad, this, on my day off, but there's so much to be done that it doesn't matter.
Already this morning I've transcribed 10 pages of notes, small jottings that fill the down time in the restaurant, the old landlord has called to advise me my damage deposit is ready and shall he drop it off? (and what a change from the previous landlord!), now it's time to make a list, set out about my day.
I've checked the ATP lineup - they had called about purchasing seasons tickets, but their lineup is rather drab and conventional, and seeing adaptations of Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad isn't my idea of a good time. I've got to go downtown, however, to try and get tickets to One Yellow Rabbit's Radiohead - dance - visual whatever, directed by Denise Clarke, which could be interesting, although I'm not sure how the boy will take it (there may be nudity and he's still a bit awkward with it. The website doesn't help with the decision...
Then there's a couple of boxes to be dropped off at the thrift shop, recycling to be sorted, a couple of boxes unpacked (a couple of boxes a day...), new ads for more rubbish to be sold, website to be worked upon, and the day unfolds ...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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And we sit around talking about penis length and how it's width that matters.
It's slow, we're always busy but sometimes it's slow to start and when it's slow the other servers, they talk to me.
I wish they wouldn't but they do anyways.
The bosses' nephew, he's gotten engaged, refuses to discuss the herpes thing further.
And G. is concerned about his penis length and is enquiring after mine and I'm reassuring him that unless it's particularly small or otherwise deformed it probably doesn't matter.
And it's been a week now since I'm back to work, I'm thwarted from leaving by the dentist, unavailable for a consultation until Sept 22, meaning that the earliest I can be out of there is October, and I'm frustrated. Enormously and I make a note to vent upon the dentist.
Still, there are other things to be organized in the meantime. I need to see a doctor, get a prescription for Champex, 1st thing to do upon leaving the restaurant. And there are others, lists re; refinishing my accommodations, etc, trivial, mundane things, and I realize that the muse has fled, she lives on the margins of emotion, love and hate, margins of experience, too much alcohol, cigarettes, too little sleep, and now, in the long middle, she's not there.
There's nothing to write about.
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The vacation is over. And it's a bit of a relief, really, it wasn't particularly relaxing. Not at all, not in the least.
And so I hear about everyone elses better, more relaxed vacation. G. Stayed in town, just hung around, Franco went to the mountains for a few days, and the bosses nephew moved in with his new girlfriend, the dishwasher looking after the house was getting to be a bit much.
He had a good vacation, and he shows us pictures of his girlfriends fine breasts on his Ipod and then a video on his facebook. I try to look politely interested, I'm not particularly, it's not my girlfriend, not my facebook, and I don't know if I particularly "approve" of showing off nude photos of one's girlfriend at work....I'm a bit of a prude that way.
The boss, he's impressed, if only his son could be this smooth...
But things aren't all what they seem in paradise. Halfway through the shift he's getting me to translate his text messages and his girlfriend checked into a clinic, she has an infection. He wants to know what an infection is and I explain, and he begins denying that it could have been him. He's had 6 women since coming to Canada. And a few hours later and there's another text message confirming that it's herpes. And he's denying it still but now he's looking a bit concerned. I cheer him up with the old: "What's the difference between Herpes and True Love" joke, he seems to take it well, offers to infect me, and so the circus continues.
I've a month left. Maybe a bit more, the dentist, the move, they've cost a fair bit. But it's the only thing that keeps me going.