wrestling ham from dimes

there was a woman behind us at the kari house on bayview, delicious malaysian food, spring rolls and roti and chicken satay skewers, who kept shouting about how she had guts.

"but do you know WHY? because I have GUTS"

"you know when i was younger i saved money because i only drank orange juice, all my friends drank alcohol and i just had orange juice. because i got GUTS"

i got up to go to the washroom and as i walked past her, with her copper hair and caked on make-up trying to hide her age, which must have been at least 65, she smiled at me. i smiled back.

coming back, i took my seat again and leaned back a little to hear what other bits of conversation gold i could pick up.

"look at that lady over there. look at her face, you can tell she lives an uninspired, unfulfilled life" for all i know she could have been talking about me.

"there are these magnificent gardens on the island just outside victoria, we ought to see them"

and our dinner arrives and i focus on my ginger chicken. the old couple next to us leaves and a sporty looking boy, about 14 or 15 sits down at their table with his father. he pulls out an mp3 player and his dad tries it out. unaware of his volume, the father yells out, "what's this song?" and the kid replies something about sum 41. another shout, "i like how this feels in my hand, it's rubbery!" and silence, and another booming declaration, "i got snoop dogg on right now!"

we trudge home, stuffed fulla tomatoes and prawns and curry sauce.

and then, this afternoon, the woman behind the counter at the bakery was scowling at me. i'm not sure why. perhaps because i paid for my ham and cheese croissant with dimes. when i'd left my apartment there was a letter that had been slipped under my door, from mikey, and i'd already gotten 3 today in my mailbox. when i got the three, i wondered why i hadn't recieved the one he told me about on the phone some time ago, that included a tracing of his hand. then i got this one under my door, sent to the wrong unit i suppose, which could be why the people in this building don't like me very much, that's twice a letter from a correctional institution to me, was sent to someone else. i'm sure they had a strata meeting about it and have decided to do all it takes to get me out of here, the girl who chums with cons. oh well. they win.

but the one under my door came with an outline of one mr. mike f's hand and "Hi Court!" beside it, and my hand fit in it and i miss him even more these days.

Labels: mike

posted by Courtney at 1:46 p.m.

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