I’m sitting in a vegetarian restaurant, waiting for my editor and her boyfriend.
I had a terrible hangover when I woke up this morning. At Gord’s party last night I was handed glass after glass of red wine, and, fool I was, kept taking them. I had lots of good conversations, some with old friends I didn’t know would be there, and some with strangers. Stranger-talks can be so rewarding, since their content comes out of nothing and I always learn something about something. I even found myself pitching one guy on The Strategic Coach Program, and a woman told me she’d heard of me because she’s in the program.
I took the streetcar across town at some silly time to get home, then was followed for a block by a homeless guy who would not take my “No”. There are so many beggars in Toronto it’s staggering. (Coincidentally, before I took out my Pocket PC to write this, I was reading Wallace Shawn’s The Fever which is about this social split. Yes, the “Incontheivable” guy in The Princess Bride and the dinosaur voice in the Toy Story movies is a serious playwright.)
There’s a fella across the restaurant who I went to Dalhousie with. Since university, he’s become famous for being in the band Sloan. I don’t want to go over and say hi, because I don’t want to come across like a slavering fanboy. He was such a nice guy back in school, and I always thought he should be my best friend instead of the guy who was my best friend. (Though now that I look back, it’s plain that my best friend’s “transgressions” have more to do with the fact that I fancied him rotten and he wasn’t wired that way.)
Okay, my friends are here, so I’m spared jumping across that social distance.
P.S. I did end up saying hi. It was no big deal, and Jay’s still a nice guy.
P.P.S. Here’s my mobile number in Toronto if anyone needs to reach me:
647-285-0888
