LOL: Love Over Lonsdale

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the Faux is a bubble in which to promote mono-cultural fraternization. Choosing to live here is all about keeping it all in the family - or for the Yiddish inclined: Mishpacha. See my ramblings about wanting a Shaygetz many moons ago...

Picture this:

INT - Beth Jacob Synagogue - Evening

The Engagement Partyof Jordana Shapiro and Mark Shefman

Jordana:
I first saw Mark at the Village Freeze. It was love at first site over a lick of a chocolate/vanilla fat free swirl.

Mark:
I saw her in her uggs and I just knew. Jordana was THE one. She is my MASHIACH.

This occurs amongst the help as well. Witness the EXTREMELY close relationships some of the philipino nannies have with each other. It's a bit odd don't you think? Have you ever seen a male philipino nanny? Where are the men?

I grabbed a drink last night with my Village Informant, Upper Canada Old Boy... and server at Village hot spot David's. As per usual Holt and I discussed the latest in Faux Hill Hillarity. It seems as if the current buzz 'round the corner of Spadina and Lonsdale is love amongst the hired help of the Faux - the Village employees.

So what's the only problem with waiters schtuping other waiters? The Village class system is kept in place - Joshua Greenbaum is left to date Miriam Stern without being tempted by the Shiksa waitresses at EdoKo who are dating the hot stock boys at the kitchen table. However, what happens when one of said waiters works at an established Village mainstay, while the other works at the young upstart around the corner?

In terms of epicurian options the Village is pretty bleak. Think East Germany circa 1962 around the time that JFK declared that he was a donut. You have ten banks, two coffee shops and until recently the only average priced resto was the rather dimunitive David's by Day, whose rather proliterian food fed the masses of Faux Hillary's starved from daily Yoga classes at the Village Yoga Studio.

David's has ruled the neighbourhood with an epicurian iron fist. It's Maginot Line - the David's Salad - is a nicely sized serving of baby greens topped off with pine nuts and craisons. Fancy... but pretty mediocre at the heart of it. Cracks in this First Line of defence, appeared last summer when a new kid on the block arrived: The Hope Street Cafe. The Hope Street Cafe doesn'thave the prime real-estate of David's... (it's down the block on Lonsdale) but it does have evening jazz... and at the end of the day the eggs are just as squishy and the food just as mediocre. Residents seemed to love the jazz concept, leaving David's suddenly yesterday's girl.

Complacency doesn't bread company however and apparently it's all out war between Hope Street and David's.

Imagine of course my surprise when I heard that Holt was caught boning one of the prettiest waitresses at Hope Street. In doing so Holt may have crossed the very fine line of tact in the Faux. This coming from a young lad who is well-versed in transgression; he's infamous for doling out a few extra craisons to patrons he's "known" if you get what I'm saying...

So for our star-crossed lovers? Sometimes keeping it in Mishpacha is just as dangerous as not leaving me a bit confused on Village semantics. Is it better to try and make a move on my straight, but Jewish neighbour, or date the cute gay guy at Starbucks? Oy vey... I default to Holt.

The story develops...