Bankview from my balcony. Every morning, 5:00, 6:00, 7:00 AM, the tribes of the Calgary homeless search the dumpster across the way for bottles. It's as if they have a schedule, know when the drunkards will be waking up and dumping the empties over the balcony, searching the dumpster, shopping carts, makeshift trailers on bicycles, garbage bags slung over shoulders, there's a rhythm.
And the dog walkers, mostly small, indoor, apartment-style dogs, teacups, a good looking couple chatting, her, small, fit, cute, him, larger, fit, handsome, their dogs exactly the same size, one a terrier, the other a pug, chatting, holding his dog, her dog back, they're trying to mount, obviously hitting it off, the couple, the owners, they're hitting it off as well but daren't be so forward...
And evening, the drunks on the way home from the bars on 17th, cabs, cars dropping off late night partiers, a couple of attractive girls making out in a vintage convertible, young, lipstick-lesbians, 1:00 AM, try not to look or stare, but one catches you looking anyways, stares back through the passenger window while her partner fumbles and gropes her...