your fate is my toilet

garlic shrimp at 'salad king'

rating: 1956 Ford Falcon / 10.0

HUGO & THE FRINGE FESTIVAL - IV

I eventually got into the theatre and found William Blake and Kahlil Gibran and Oscar Wilde in the center of the theatre and sat next to William Blake. The theatre was charming. The seats were made out of this tweed. The tweed was composed of an eclectic variety of once vibrant colours, which now possessed a subtle and nuanced grace. The wall detailing was nice too and there was a toilet bowl and piano in the center of the stage with a spotlight shining on each of them.

The show was about colon cancer and it was surprisingly good and serious at the same time. It also had some very deserved moments of laughter as well. The production concept was minimalist, but not in a pretentious way. It was very intelligent actually. There were moments of forced humour that should have been just removed, but other than those moments of forced humour I really enjoyed the show.

We went over to 'Artist Alley' which is just that funny looking alley in the middle of Honest Ed's with rows of Christmas lights stringed across the top of it. We each got a beer. They were only serving St-Ambroise here, which I was fine with. I heard Canada's best beers were from Montreal. I had an Oatmeal Stout and it was very good. Then I looked up and a sign above me said, GET LOST. I wanted to kill the sign by striking it many times as hard as I could. But then I saw another sign that said 'real babies' and then I didn't want to kill any of the signs anymore.

Everyone here in this alley was a few years older than me and dressed the way people dressed in Williamsburg three billion years ago. I was wearing floral leaf print shorts I bought at Old Navy and t-shirt that said Thailand and had elephants on it. People looked at me in disdain. I wanted to cry. Oscar Wilde called me a frequenter of Kensington as he showed all of us some photographs on his iPhone. They were outfits he tried while thrifting there. I told him I had only been to Kensington a handful of times. He gave it another shot. He said, You seem like an Ossington kind of person. I said I liked Ossington. I was not actually an Ossington kind of person though. If I was to lie, I would say I was a Parkdale kind of person, but I'm not that either. I am a nowhere kind of person. I don't belong anywhere on this earth. I belong in somebody's arms. I am a somebody's arms kind of person. That somebody is no one on earth.

I left the alley to go get a phone call. My parents were calling. It was past midnight already. I said I was on my way home. Then William Blake and Kahlil Gibran and Oscar Wilde all came out and around the corner and found me. Then we all ate shawarma and Oscar Wilde went home to his brother's place. The rest of us got into William Blake's compact sedan and William Blake drove us home. I brushed my teeth and fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, I still smelt like shawarma.