Archives for posts with tag: overheard

Late afternoon. Union Station.

‘I know you’re a Mercedes and you don’t put diesel in your gas pipe.’

Advertisements

Ordering coffee at Starbucks.

‘Wearing the magnetic strip off my American Express card is my biggest problem.’

‘At 19, you shouldn’t be too concerned about making money. It’s nice to be creative, though.’

‘Two guys we didn’t know well left us some blue pills. We figured, ‘let’s party.’ We crushed them up. No one felt a thing. Then I sneezed and looked down. There was a Smurf holocaust in my hands.’

315pm, October 2010.

Folk singer at the back of a packed Southbound Bathurst streetcar leaving Bathurst station:

‘As I remember your eyes, they were bluer than robin’s eggs… we both know what memories can bring… then you were temporarily lost at sea… memories can bring diamonds… overlooking Central Park, snow in your chair…’

‘Hey man, where you from?’

‘Newfoundland. I can’t go back. The second I land on the island, they won’t let met off once I start singing. ‘You’re gonna’ marry one of our girls and father 50 children!’’

‘Thanks for the music, brother.’

2am. Queen Street West. DJ spinning at the bar.
Two best friends tell it like it was.

“We’ve been friends since we were 10, man.”
“We’ve known each other since we were 13!”
“Our parents hooked up.”
“It’s a long story.”
“My mom fucked your dad.”
“No, my dad fucked your mom!
“No, my mom fucked your dad!

%d bloggers like this: