Meanwhile, since getting back; coworker, sick, rumour has it she's had more sick days over my vacation than I had vacation days. How this is possible is anyone's guess, but I don't doubt it. She's texting me, still not feeling well, would I work for her tonight?
***
And M***, at the cafe, doing well, but do I know so and so and he describes him, another cafe regular, his girlfriend, and I do, by sight only - not that it matters since apparently he was found dead in his tub just before I left for vacation, probably the same day I last saw him...
I have a theory but it's wrong to speculate upon the deceased...
***
M****** is working a Flea Market this weekend and I've committed to dropping off some of my ties with a view towards lessening my load and paying off some of the costs of the vacation. And, given the sheer number of ties I have, maybe even of taking another.
So I sort through them, choose about 30 (leaving some 4 or 5 hundred left), drop them off, M****** is filled with admiration, it's true, they're beautiful things but no one out here wears a tie...
I should start wearing ties around town the next few days, inspire the competition that can then find their own ties at M******'s stall...
***
And B***, wearing the coat I gave M****** who then regifted to B***, running into him at the Kootenay Co-Op, and he's laughing, makes me try it on, we're the same size, catch up, he's interested in some of my ties and I refer him to M*****.
***
Today, another day off that hasn't yet been thwarted although I have to live under the shadow that it may yet be, this morning diverted from my regular cafe by an inane gibbering woman that would not let go the ear of the barista, head down to another, it's been there a couple of years but of such erratic hours that I've never stopped in. Today is the day, and - inside, clean, contemporary urban layout, 1 other customer, 3 staff. It takes 10 minutes to get a double espresso. They don't do filter coffee, (POUR OVER is their equivalent), don't have cream, sugar (although they serve the espresso with a spoon, which to me seems useless). How they've managed these couple of years is as much a mystery as any of the businesses in the Lower East Side of Vancouver, the lead Barista, a man of my age and clearly strong opinions (although this from his demeanor, not his speaking), his venture, behind the bar to take my order because the other barista isn't yet capable, then relaying it to her, then back to tidying empty shelves, ...
***
And the neighbour, texting me first thing in the morning that she's certain other neighbour (Kramer) is a Prostitute, saw her coming in this morning dressed like....(fishnets, high white boots). No surprise there, we'd all speculated, and why she sees fit to tell me is a bit odd...
***
Which brings us up to speed, time now for a Baker Street stroll, thrift shop (or 2), make some lunch and get started on a few creative projects...