An anonymous poster a couple of posts down accused me of being a "bad person and class traitor." I don't like to think of myself as a bad person; caustic, yes; embittered at times, sure; emotional, check - but bad person? Them's fighting words.
Today - being father's day, we held a giant brunch. My family friends the Whiterock's - their house a wine cellar - showed up a couple of hours late, hightaling it from Muskoka only to complain about the traffic (I love when people complain about cottage traffic...). Thankfully they brough their son, Whiterock Jr., and his [asian] girlfriend. This is amusing because scandalized guests can turn to my mother only to state the obvious, "Did you see his girlfriend? She's asian." Once, one of my mother's friend used the word Oriental to describe her. It was simultaneously so awkward and so amazing. As I stood in the kitchen washing dishes I thought that the brunch would be a FABULOUS (note the use of the word) time to introduce my non-existent significant other to the extended family. "This is 'so and so...'" I'd say, "we fuck." No amount of Gucci could replicate the look of shock I'd expect from some of my parents friends.
I longed for escape; as the party droned on Whiterock Jr ends up prostelatyzing guests about his weird blend of pseudo populist, neo conservative vision for Canadian politics, while I watched the fresia melt under the sun. Once everyone had left I wound up in the Village, natch, sipping iced tea and sweating. It was a usual sunday in the Village - the fashion monotony was broken up only by a seventeen year old in a black tank top, black shorts and black Uggs. UGGS. WINTER BOOTS. FYI - it's 35 degrees outside.
What happened next is a first for the Village, at least in my own experiences. It was something which actually brought a smile, yes a smile, to my curmudgeonly face: hark, in the distance, appearing almost out of nowhere - two men walked together hand-in-hand, down Spadina cutting a swath through the Village.
And so I thought, maybe the Village has a bit of pride after all?
Happy Pride Week Y'all.
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So if you're like me you've graduated McGill with an honours BA in History and you've moved back into your parents' house and you're unemployed and sit in the Forest Hill Village Starbucks every day wondering why so many people wear Lululemon? Welcome to the Village, bitch. This is how its done in Forest Hill.
1 comment:
i stopped by that very starbucks today and looked for you, also sipping an iced tea. on my way home from yorkdale.
alas you were not there ;(
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