Monthly Archives: August 2003

Reclaiming The Iron Bar

I was rid­ing the bus this morn­ing, com­ing back from St. Laurent when all the peo­ple are return­ing from their social lunch breaks. Traveling west, the bus­es fill up quick­ly and I was forced to stand near the back, hold­ing onto my yel­low pole like a ter­ri­to­r­i­al strip­per lest I be forced away from door by the crush­es of peo­ple. I had secured my loca­tion until the stop before the one I want­ed to get off. Just as the doors were clos­ing, a male with a very tough, apa­thet­ic face squeezed through and decid­ed to lean on my pole. His back squashed my fin­gers against the met­al bar as he decid­ed to lean instead of hold­ing on. I gen­er­al­ly can’t stand lis­ten­ing to peo­ple on the bus, let alone share body heat with them, so I prompt­ly let go and grabbed a hang­ing loop instead. I could­n’t tell if he was aware that he sup­plant­ed me, but I became annoyed at the fact that some­one could sim­ply get his way just by being igno­rant or apa­thet­ic.

I decid­ed to reclaim my iron bar, by grab­bing it once again and touch­ing his back in a sex­u­al man­ner with my fin­gers. I want­ed to test this tough male in how com­fort­able he was with his sex­u­al­i­ty, to make him as uncom­fort­able as he had made me, and to claim the iron bar as my own. As I grabbed the bar, the doors of the bus swung open. I had reached my stop with­out real­iz­ing.

After The Power Outage, And A Broken Camera

I stepped off the bus this morn­ing, and the sun was low in the sky. The wind blew cool and fresh on my face, a wel­come change from the mug­gy atmos­phere fur­ther south. Exhausted as I was from my trav­el­ing, the weath­er refreshed me, and it all felt like hap­pi­ness.

The food in my freez­er seems to be alright, even after the pow­er out­age. That saves me from hav­ing to get deliv­ery the next time I go gro­cery shop­ping. I was pret­ty wor­ried at first, since Nick helped me stock up on food the last time he came over.

My Fujifilm MX-1700 has stopped work­ing. The lens cov­er is stuck in the open posi­tion, and the lens refus­es to extend. I’ve nev­er had a prob­lem with a cam­era, so I don’t know what to do about the sit­u­a­tion. The MX-1700 has served me well, ever since I got it three years ago. It does every­thing I need it to, and since I only take pic­tures for web based things, I don’t need a res­o­lu­tion above 1280x1024. I might con­sid­er get­ting anoth­er one, depend­ing on how much this one will cost to fix, and the options avail­able on the dig­i­tal cam­era mar­ket right now.

The Magic Of Phone Cards

There’s a sort of mag­ic to using phone cards. Every card pur­chased is a new key, and every brand tried is a dif­fer­ent voice and card-stiff­ness. With all the hid­den fees and secret costs, it always makes me won­der what is in store as I scratch away the metal­lic blind. Some stores only sell the “phone receipt” now, a piece of paper print­ed on the date of pur­chase, com­plete with num­bers and key, because peo­ple sell­ing the phone cards to stores are being robbed of their card-filled brief­cas­es. The receipt works the same way as a card, but lacks the tan­gi­ble feel of a sol­id card. Calling some­one should always be this fun.