Speak (like the Devil) and Spell (like a fiend)

Recently, while engaged in a nostalgic conversation about my childhood, I remembered my favourite childhood toy. They were simpler times then, I was but a wee little boy (approximately 7 years old) with a thirst for knowledge. The only gaming system was Atari. We actually played outside. You could play outside all day without sunscreen and just get a gradual tan. We had 3 channels on TV. Getting cable and the movie channel were monumental events in my life. From the time I was about 3 to 7, I WAS the remote control for the TV. That was how I learned my numbers (the TV had a rotary dial that went from 2-13). We finally got a TV that had a remote control when I was 7 or so. There was a monthly magazine that served as a guide for the movies playing that month on the movie channel and I always memorized it. I went Rain Man on that thing. My family just asked me what movies were on and I could tell them the title, storyline and if it had scenes of violence, coarse language, or nudity (I always giggled if it did).

This Christmas toy may very well have changed my life. Considering that I am now a writer by trade, it likely played an important part in making this a reality. The toy was a Speak and Spell. For those unfamiliar with this wonderful invention, it basically spoke to you in an evil robot voice and said "SPELL ______!!". I couldn't get enough of it. I went through batteries like they were going out of style, to the point where my parents had to buy me a plug in for it. I cannot stress enough how completely psychedelic the voice on that thing was. I'm lucky I didn't grow up talking like a demon child with a speech impediment. Click on the link, and see for yourself. Now picture the easily moulded mind of a child spending hours a day listening to that voice. It's a miracle in itself I didn't go up to other kids and say "SPELL DODECAHEDRON!!...INCORRECT!". My spelling skills were enhanced beyond belief and I was able to excel on spelling tests in school, quietly accumulating an awe-inspiring collection of "scratch and sniff" stickers. Later on in high school we had a gym teacher that scratched his crotch a lot and he was nicknamed "Scratch and Sniff", that irreparably tainted my affectionate recollection of my sticker collection. I can specifically remember my mom making me spell "carbohydrate" in front of almost anyone that came to the house when I was 7 years old ("Michael come show Thelma what a good speller you are!") and I did my little spelling show like a trained monkey. I was a decent proofreader by the time I was 10 years old. To this day I tend to notice spelling mistakes like a hawk (one of my friends unjustly calls me a "spelling nazi"). I owe this all to a $70 toy bought back in 1984. Thank you Speak and Spell, you've changed my life...

"Your last blog kind of sucked a little. Step it up a notch"

Over the weekend I was talking to a friend of mine that reads the blog and she casually informed me that my "last blog sucked a little and to step it up a notch". I won't lie, my initial reaction was to tell her I hoped her crotch was infected with termites and her arms too short to scratch. Then I realized she had just expected more from me and I had let her down. Then I felt bad. I went back and read it and yeah it did suck. There's nothing like a good old fashioned call out to make me go all Die Hard with a Vengeance up in here...I was just thinking how I haven't had any good inspiration for a blog lately, well colour me inspired. I'm seeing red. I'll have you know that my blog has been shown to cure cancer in lab rats, granted the clinical trials are still in the early stages and it is unknown if the rats actually had cancer to begin with. It is the preferred blog for 4 out of 5 dentists (those Sensodyne dentists are sooooo damn sensitive...).

So here it is for your reading amusement, another tale of dating from the long, sordid story of dating known as "The Dickie Memoirs". I'm still waiting for the book deal to come through, you might want to hold off on checking Amazon.com or Chapters anytime soon. I'm holding out for a million dollars and they're currently offering $5. Negotiations have stalled but I am confident they are just playing hardball. Actually they have never returned my emails or calls, but it is just a matter of time...

I was out at a pub with my roomate Teeder and we were having a few drinks just enjoying the Irish atmosphere and happy to be out of the apartment. The band was good and the night just had a great feel to it. We were telling each other jokes and laughing in our typical fashion when I registered some eyes on me. I don't usually trust my spider senses but this was unmistakable. I did a quick survey around the room and spotted the culprit. It was an attractive girl of slightly below average height with golden blonde hair. Her hair seemed to glow and had these really cute curls. I was intrigued. So I employed my unique and unfailing rules of engagement. In other words, I just looked in her direction once in a while and did my best to not look creepy. And by unfailing, I mean it works about 10% of the time. We generally looked at each other and smiled for about an hour. I'm quite shy around strangers and approaching girls in a bar is not my style, but for whatever reason I was inspired to go up to talk to her and her friend. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take right? You gotta be in it to win it? Pick a cliche and it likely passed through my mind.

I walked up, surprisingly cool, and I introduced myself. We chatted and kind of hit it off. It was close to closing time and I asked for her number, she gave it. I called her and was going to ask her out but she had to work. She invited me to come by the pool hall she worked at. I called my friend Awall and asked if he was up for some pool. He accepted the offer. We went to the pool hall and she set us up with a table. I noticed this woman at the bar that looked as if she is just killing time between bingo games. I tend to make a note of all the patrons in a public place just in case I need to get out in a hurry and I like to have mental notes about anyone that may cause trouble. She was noted. Not because she would cause trouble mind you, but in the case of a fire she may slow people down because she forgot her lucky bingo dabbers. These are the things I notice.

We played pool and the girl came back once in a while to check on us, we flirted a little. I suck at interpreting flirting, so maybe she just had something in her eye. On a side note, Awall is one of my best friends and we always have a some good laughs. He once picked me up and when I got in the car he was really excited so I asked him why. He explained that he just went to the bank machine and that it gave him some brand new $5 bills. He then told me that he thought he would put them away and keep them cause they might be worth something some day. I looked at him in total disbelief and said "Yeah they will, $5". He gave me a look like a kid that just found out there was no such thing as Santa Claus. Another time my mom was taking us both out for dinner and the waiter took our orders and he told Awall the choices of potato available with his meal: baked potato, mashed potatoes, and fries. Awall just replies in a quiet voice "potatoes". I nearly spit out my water. These events are so infamous now that when he does something stupid I just say "$5" or "potatoes" and we both laugh hysterically. Maybe this is a geography joke and you just needed to be there. I find it imperative to point out at this time that Awall did not drink or do drugs like you may assume. Interestingly enough he was along for a lot of my failed dating "adventures". But I digress, that is another blog entry...

So we finished playing pool and we were walking up towards the bar to pay for the game and to say goodbye. Awall was watching intently to see how I was going to mess up the goodbye like I have a tendency to do. Out of the blue the Bingo woman speaks up and calls me over. At this point it becomes obvious to me that the Bingo woman knows the girl and they have talked about me a little. Something was amiss and I could sense it. As I walked over to the woman I got the feeling it was a bad idea. As soon as she opened her mouth to speak my suspicions were confirmed. She knew I was trying to impress the girl and had it in her mind to use me for her enjoyment. Normally I would have declined what she said, but I was feeling a bit surly that evening. There was a group of 8 people (half guys, half girls) that were sitting on couches around the fireplace discussing sex and she was listening to what they were saying. She had a few objections to what the guys were saying and she wanted to voice her opinion. She would never do this but since I was approximately the same age as the group, she thought it would be great to have me voice it for her. She laid out the plan by saying "If you go over to that group and tell them you've heard what they were saying and just have to give your opinion that it's all about the girl, nothing else matters, it's just about the girl" I'll buy you and your friend a beer". She said it that way but what I actually heard was "Do this if you want to not seem like a total dork in front of this girl you're trying to impress". This request doesn't seem like a terribly big deal, but for someone decently shy like I can be, it was a big undertaking.

At this point I will say that women make men do stupid things all the time. I assume that is how the Olympics began way back when, it was originally just two guys trying to outdo each other over a woman.

In a moment of extreme bravery or total stupidity, I walked over to this group and they noticed me approaching. They were obviously wondering what the hell I was doing. Awall sat there at the bar laughing his ass off because he knew I was totally out of my element. With all eyes on me I opened my mouth and surprisingly the words came out fairly clear and confidently "Excuse me, but I couldn't help but overhear the conversation you're having and I just have to say, it's all about the woman for me, if she's not happy I'm not happy either". The guys looked at me like they wanted to kill me and the girls looked like they were quite interested in whatever else I had to say at this point. One of the girls said "All guys say that, but few of them know what the hell they are doing" and I replied "I was a boy scout, I never go into the woods unless I am familiar with the territory or have a good map. I've never gotten lost in the woods, and one time I tamed a wild cougar...". The guys stared at me with dirtier looks and the girls' smiles got a little bigger. I took that as my cue to exit stage left and I thanked them for their time and walked back to the bar. Bingo woman was smiling ear to ear like she just got an O-69 to complete the dreaded 4 corners game, the girl was smiling sheepishly at me and Awall was laughing and called me an idiot. The Bingo woman tried to order me a beer but I told her it was not necessary because I didn't do it for the beer while I smiled at the girl behind the bar.

I didn't end up dating the girl from the pool hall, but this helped me in overcoming my fears of looking foolish in front of people and likely spurred on a few blog worthy events down the road. It seems like a small blip on the radar, but it was the beginning of a new improved Dickie. Stay tuned...

Love it...

What!?
Posted by Matthew Good on January 27, 2010
I hope she’s not talking about her breasts…

…because I care. Unless, that is, they cost the Province $6 billion smackeroos.

-From matthewgood.org

I mean anytime you have the opportunity to spend $6 billion dollars to probably lose a few billion in return, don't you make that investment every time??

In unrelated news I am finally rid of my VW Jetta. I no longer have to internally debate the morals of leaving it unlocked in Scarborough overnight. I honestly think the real reason I didn't do this is that it would have been suspicious with me laughing so hard while reporting it stolen. Let the Acura Era begin, the bar has been set low.

A Plethora of Bad Ideas

Many blogs ago I took some quotes from the movie Cocktail and wrote about them. I've decided to bring that back and see how it goes, I welcome feedback whether it be positive or negative. By now I assume you have all seen the Hangover. What I propose to do is talk about current events and to tie it somehow to a quote from the movie. Bare with me as it will be a work in progress and could totally suck. I do guarantee you your money's worth...

Stu: "Am I missing a TOOTH?? I look like a nerdy hillbilly!!" - Dedicated to the Slap Chop/ShamWOW guy. We've all seen this guy on TV. I have to question the idea of having a guy that allegedly slapped and chopped a prostitute in his hotel room as your pitchman for a product called the "SLAP/CHOP". The essence of the story is that he was kissing her and she bit his tongue and wouldn't let go. Read the article for yourself here. Maybe watching Pretty Woman has given me the wrong impression of hookers, I always assumed there was no kissing. In my mind both parties should want to enforce that rule. I want to know more about this, like whether he introduces himself as the "ShamWOW guy" and whether she had a sense of humour about him soliciting her and said "pay within the next 15 minutes and I'll throw in a ____ free! (just pay the extra shipping and 'handling')"? These are the important issues and I am just left wondering...

Stu: "What do Tigers dream of when they take a little Tiger snooze? Do they dream of mauling zebras or Halle Berry in her Cat Woman suit?" and Alan: "Tigers love Pepper. They hate Cinnamon" and Phil: "F*ck, I keep forgetting about the goddamn Tiger!!" - Dedicated to Tiger Woods of course. Now I'm not saying what he did was alright, but Elin should have seen it coming. I don't know Tiger Woods, surprisingly I don't know anyone who has slept with him either (or will admit it, although some of my friends are suspiciously driving brand new expensive cars recently), but I knew all I needed to know about him by typing "Do Tigers mate for life?" into Google and getting the following answer "Some do and some don't". So right there it doesn't sound good. Throw in the fact that he makes like a billion dollars and the odds of him not cheating go down exponentially. Now he has reportedly checked into sex addiction therapy and from the look of some of the women he was allegedly with, I believe it was a cry for help and he wanted to get caught. The best thing about the second quote is that Pepper and Cinnamon sound like really ugly stripper names (and coincidentally most of the women that have talked about him have looked like ugly strippers). I think his entire P.R. team should be fired. If I were Tiger Woods I would have embraced the infamy and made fun of myself. An example of how I would act if I was indeed Tiger Woods (I mean he was caught, at least have some fun with it):

Reporter: "Tiger is it true you have had extramarital relations with upwards of 12 women?"
Me as TW: "Yes, it is. I blame myself for getting caught up in my own name. I believed I was a TIGER. Sometimes I would wake up and I would have to remind myself I was not actually in the JUNGLE man. What's your name? Mike? You have no idea what it's like, you don't have the nickname of a wild jungle cat. Come back to me when you've become the most famous person in the world at anything and you've legally changed your name to Hyena or Panther. Next question?"

Reporter: "Are you worried you will lose half of your wealth because of your infidelities?"
Me as TW: "I'm Tiger Woods, I'm worth a billion dollars. If Elin takes half, I'm not starving, I'm not shopping at Walmart or Giant Tiger. Sure I lost some endorsements, but I am currently in contract negotiations with Trojan (a Tiger striped condom) and Blackberry (a phone that will have fingerprint recognition). And in case you've all forgotten, I'm pretty damn good at golf. I'm Oprah RICH."

Reporter: "What do you regret most about everything that has gone down?"
Me as TW: "Are you kidding me? Did you see some of these women?? I regret the ugliness of the women."

Reporter: "Did you think you'd get caught?"
Me as TW: "No, and I wouldn't have if it weren't for those pesky kids and that dog...Roooby Doooby Doo(Scooby Doo reference). Does anyone know Britney's number??"

Stu: "If anything, we should get a reward" Alan "Yeah...a reward or a trophy!" - Dedicated to the lesbian that left a lesbian party and decided to drive home intoxicated. She called 911 and reported herself. Lesbian: "I'd like to report a drunk driver" 911: "Are you behind them?" Lesbian: " I AM THEM" 911: "Excuse me? You're what? Lesbian: "I AM THEM".

Stu: "You are literally too stupid to insult"
Alan: "Thank you." - Dedicated to the couple in Romania that tried to have a child for 11 years and were unable to. Upon going to a fertility specialist it was discovered they were taking the road less travelled all those years. Robert Frost would have been proud.

Until next time, may fortune smile upon you all...

When Cougars Attack...

While brainstorming about possible blog topics on the way to Wendy's I thought of a somewhat amusing topic. Older, aggressive women that try just a little too hard...aka "the cougar". You will not see a special anytime soon on the Discovery Channel about these cougars though. One of my best friends back home was even nicknamed the "Cougar Tamer", these women usually were drawn like magnets to him and he was not opposed to "getting to know" them. It was hilarious watching it happen while out at a bar, it was like watching the Rainman guessing the number of toothpicks on the floor. After the fact I would always ask "why do you like the cougars?" and he would always reply "I could look at it like it is a gift or a curse, I choose to view it as a gift". It's hard to argue with that logic.

I'm not opposed to somewhat older women, but cougars are not my thing. They terrify me just a little and usually look a little "weathered". They tend to be too openly aggressive and don't like taking no for an answer. It is not in my nature to be openly rude so I have a hard time getting away from them.

I was out at a dance club when I was 22 with my roommates when we saw this woman (henceforth referred to as the "cougar"). She was noticeably drunk even though it was fairly early in the evening. She seemed to be visibly causing a commotion everywhere she went in the club. We found a table and sat down, away from the dancefloor and started telling jokes and just having a good time. I had my back to the main walkway in the club and my roomates started to look at me with a look best described as trying not to laugh mixed with perverse horror. It took me a split second to piece together what could possibly be causing this look ...just as I felt my stomach start to lurch at the thought of it, I felt the leathery hands grab at my face from behind me. I quickly spun away from the hands and turned to face the violator...It was like staring into the face of the medusa. She was at least 40, looked like she was a refugee from some small town legion, smoked two packs of Marlboro's a day without the filter (you could see the smoking creases in her lips - something I personally find hard to resist), was wearing acid washed jeans with white sneakers, makeup looked like it was applied with a paintball gun, and her dyed blond hair might have been dried by jumping out of an airplane. I was completely horrified. Apparently she took my look of horror another way (or perhaps she just saw the moment of weakness) and the next thing I knew she had me by the face and was coming at me trying to kiss me. I've had dogs try to bite my face and my neck muscles have never lurched my head away as quickly as they did at that point. Thank goodness for the fight or flight reaction we are born with as it would have possibly scarred me for life had she kissed me. Her breath reeked of stale liquor and cigarettes, it was worth whatever risk of self induced whiplash I subjected myself to in order to avoid her. I'd never been manhandled before and I was not loving it and was not sure how to put an end to it. So I did what any of you would have done...I pointed to one of my roomates (who was laughing and enjoying the show) and told the cougar "He said you were HOT and was hoping you'd come over here..." (sure I threw him under the bus, but in all fairness he was the oldest in the group and the closest to her age). His smile and laughter quickly ended as she made her way towards him and grabbed his face as well. I have to admit, that was hilariously funny to watch when it it wasn't happening to me. Even with some advance notice she was able to grab his face and sort of graze his lips before he got away. We later taunted him incessantly that he didn't make it away cleanly because deep down he kinda liked it. She harassed him for about 5 minutes until he pushed her off on the other roomate. She was a firm believer in the face grab and tried it on all three of us. Eventually one of the bouncers felt sorry for us (after laughing at us for a while) and came over. He told her to get herself together or she'd have to leave. She seemed to snap out of her attempted makeout frenzy for a moment, gathered herself, sighed and gave us all a look as if to say we had embarassed her in some way, then walked away. It'd be a funny enough story if it ended there, wouldn't it? Oh but I assure you it did not end there...if only it did. Thinking back on it now, I see how this night caused lives to be changed and destinies to be altered forever...it was the butterfly effect, the domino effect and just plain old bad timing all rolled into one.

The reason I went out that night was the possibility of meeting up with a girl I had a huge crush on. I liked her for almost a year and never had the nerve to ask her out. I met her when she worked at Footlocker at the mall. I ended up buying tons of shoelaces and sweatbands just so I could flirt with her. She started working at a clothing store and I started shopping there. She'd suggest clothing for me and I would buy it. I remember buying one pair of particularly ridiculous pants because she told me they looked "hot". By this point she would hug me when we met, and hug when I left. Big progress. She had a smile and a cuteness that just made me grin like an idiot. Anyways, it seemed like it was just a matter of time until the angels smiled down on us and we dated...WRONG...WRONG...

So, you're asking what the hell this has to do with the previous story? Well I will tell you just exactly what it has to do with it. After the cougar slinked back into the bar and hopefully out of our lives forever, we joked around about the events a little and how she almost got us. Scary stuff. Remembering that alcohol is a natural disinfectant I decided to walk up to the bar to get a drink. I ordered my drink and someone to my left grabbed my wrist. To my delight I looked over and saw it was the girl from the mall and she has one of those smiles that just makes me stutter a little. The wrist grabbed turned into a hand holding. I totally forgot about the traumatic cougar events for the time being and just looked at that smile while she kept holding my hand. All too abruptly I realized that someone was putting their hands in my front pockets. She could tell by the look on my face that something was horribly wrong. It was precisely at that moment that it hit me that if there was a hand in each pocket but she was holding one of my hands in her hand, there was no way it was her hands in my pocket... I let go of her hand, took the hands out of my pockets (they were holding my money at this point) and turned to face whoever it was. Of course it was this demon bag lady from hell with a huge smile on her face. I grabbed my cash out of her hands and told her nicely to leave me alone. I turned back around and saw that the girl was no longer smiling and was looking at me with a "what the hell was that all about?" look on her face. The next thing I knew the cougar was beside me and the girl and said to me "I sen yo to da ba to buy us a dwink and I see you talkin to this b*tch??", while she unsuccessfully attempted to grope me. The girl looked at me with a look of undisguised disgust, turned around and walked away. The cougar stumbled away laughing to herself. I stood there wondering what the hell just happened and wishing I might spontaneously combust. Unfortunately I did not.

You are likely thinking that I exaggerated the part about destinies being altered and lives changed...you would be wrong my friend. Later THAT night, the girl ran into a friend who introduced her to her friend (a guy). She ended up dating this guy, marrying this guy and moving away. The guy had a bit of a drug problem and unfortunately she ended up with one as well. Last I heard they were divorced and she had moved back to NB and had gotten her life back on track. It all could have been possibly avoided if not for the cougar attack that given night catastrophically changing the course of events forever. When cougars attack, the fallout can be immeasurable. Be careful out there...they are among us. I will now set myself on fire for reliving this tragedy in my mind...

I heard on the radio that there is now a female sex robot that can be purchased for the low price of $7,000 - $9,000. It comes with 5 different personalities, I'm not even going to touch that one. I also question the resale value...

Things you realize while laying on a concrete floor on Christmas Eve...

Merry belated Christmas to everyone. I hope you had a great time with your friends and families. Ideally good times were had by all. I went home in early December this year since the flights home at Christmas time were ridiculously priced. This was the first Christmas I didn't make it home at least for Boxing Day. Yes, shed a tear for me - I want you to.

I got invited to go to Montreal with my bestest friends to meet up with their friends and spend the holidays together. Great idea! I'm was going to be the best 5th wheel ever...We made it there late on the 23rd and I slept on the couch in the basement. Fairly comfy and I was tired enough at that point to be able to fall asleep anywhere. I didn't totally fall into a deep sleep because I was paranoid of rolling over too far and falling off the couch. The next night (Christmas Eve) I was presented with the option of the inflatable air mattress. I jumped at the opportunity to be able to stretch out. I used the automatic pump to inflate it in about 5 minutes. It was all blown up and looked dreamy, comfortable and spacious. I crawled into my sleeping bag (I came prepared) and settled in for a relaxing night's sleep with visions of sugar plums dancing in my head. All was well until around 8am when I woke up in a panic on my side because I couldn't really move. The room was pitch black and I couldn't tell why I was so constricted. Upon further investigation I realized that the air mattress had deflated a fair bit and all the air was out at the sides trapping me in a V-shaped air mattress-o-death. It was at precisely that moment I was reminded that I am in fact single for Christmas and that having a girlfriend would have the added benefit of evening out the air mattress so at least it would deflate on both sides, allowing me to sleep longer before hitting the concrete. Being the glass-half-full find of guy I am I decided to look at the hole in the air mattress as the gift of a built in alarm clock. Looking at the situation now I could have achieved the same thing with some sort of counterweight.

Christmas night I had the bright idea of sleeping on the floor with the 2 large couch cushions as my bed. Again I fell asleep decently fast but woke up not long after when the couch cushions separated and my hip bone was rubbing directly on the concrete floor. It was at precisely that moment that I pondered the advantages being overweight and having a layer of fat between my hip bone and the floor that would cushion my hip and allow me to sleep longer. I quickly realized that I could not gain 50 pounds on the spot by sheer will alone. I laughed when I thought about my ex (that gained like 80 pounds over three years) and how she would have been able to sleep through this. I sighed and pushed the cushions back together and a few hours later I woke up in the same predicament. Being stubborn and half asleep, instead of coming up with a better solution I just kept pushing them together and slept for a few hours at a time for the rest of the night.

All in all it was a great trip aside from the weather while we were there. Good friends and good times. Yesterday on my drive home I saw four people over the age of 50 jogging (or at least a sad attempt at jogging) in the -20 windchill. One poor guy's face was an awful shade of red as if it might explode. It almost made me feel lazy by not running or going to the gym in a while, but then I decided running would not be fully enjoying my body's naturally high metabolism. I decided to celebrate it by drinking coke, eating Triscuits and playing Xbox instead...Happy New Year!

Happy New Year - Not So Much...

My first New Year's experience in Toronto was memorable (and a bit mentally scarring) to say the least. I did not yet know many people here in the big city and my options were limited. I had made friends with a girl from NS (Maria) and she invited me along to share in the NYE festivities with her and a group of her friends. I figured it was a good way to get out and have fun as well as possibly make some new friends.

The evening starts out as expected with drinks at Maria's with a couple of her friends. We have a few rounds and discuss where we're meeting the rest of the group. A pub just down from Bloor and Bay St. is the meeting spot for the evening. The night has a positive aura happening and the good times are rolling (people have commented that all my blog entries involve alcohol...and I reply that I don't need alcohol to have a good time. I can also start a fire by rubbing two sticks together, but isn't it that much easier with a lighter?).

We get to the bar at around 10pm and meet up with the other members of our party. I take my place at our table and sit on the side facing the door. We have a few more rounds and we're all enjoying ourselves, so much so that I do not take notice of the other clientelle in the bar. This crazy looking guy came in (looked like the lead singer of Econoline Crush - see picture to the left), noticed me and came directly toward our table. I look up and this guy is coming at me with the fist bump. I thought the guy was just hammered and being festive so I bump fists with him. I am not a fist bump snob, perhaps I should be. He leaves the table and continues on into the bar. He is mostly forgotten by the time I see him walking by again eyeing me in a peculiar way. The next thing I saw was him talking to the hot girl across the table from me (I was hoping the alcohol would give me enough courage to talk to her eventually). She looks at me and smiles, then shakes her head and the crazy-eyed guy walks away again. I am wondering what the heck the guy was talking to her about and what he said to make her smile. She smiles at me and leans over the table then motions me to come closer as well. At this point I am thinking 2008 is going to be a great freaking year. She whispers in my ear "That guy wanted to talk to you, but he was shy so he asked me if you were single and/or straight? I said I thought you were single and straight but I'd find out for him". Apparently the look on my face and the noticeable dry heave made it obvious she would not be playing the part of homo-cupid this evening. She looks a little disappointed. Then she reassures me I do not seem gay but "in this city, you always have to ask". I begin to feel a bit better about the situation and less violated by the visual assault I was getting earlier from the freakshow.

Hot girl seems to have taken a bit of a liking to me and we are conversing a little. At this point we both look at our watches and notice that it is 12:10am and that the bar did not even do a countdown. What the hell? What bar does not do a countdown on New Year's Eve?? I start to question what type of establishment we are in. Our table does our own staged countdown at about 12:15am and hot girl gives me a peck on the cheek. Life is good, 2008 seemed to be a keeper already. And then I got up from the table to go to the men's room...

I walk into the room and there are three empty urinals. Naturally observing urinal etiquette I choose the one furthest to the right to allow the one urinal buffer zone to be preserved should someone else walk in. Sure enough someone comes in and he clearly breaks the urinal code by taking the middle urinal next to me. This makes me uncomfortable. I stare straight ahead but I get this overwhelming feeling of being watched. I think it's just that I'm still rattled by the earlier turn of events. I can't shake the feeling. I glance over a bit and notice the guy is definitely not looking straight forward. I look further over and the guy is not only breaking urinal etiquette, he is looking straight down at my downtown bonanza. He was like a fat kid looking at an ice cream cake. Having never encountered such behaviour before I was not sure how to proceed. I made the uncomfortable cough noise (the "what the hell are you doing?" cough). At this point he looked up at me and smiled. I give him the "what the hell is wrong with you?" face and he just keeps smiling back. I get the hell out of that bathroom like someone threw a live grenade in there. It hits me that this may all just be a bad dream, or maybe I have stumbled into the twilight zone or something.

I slowly make my way back to our table and immediately the ghostly look on my face causes people to ask me if I'm ok, what happened, why am I so pale?? I have a small audience as I recount the events of the visual molestation I received in men's room. The people at my table laugh at my hardship but I am a bit traumatized and not yet able to find the humour in this strange turn of events. I begin to look around at the other clientelle in the bar and to say they are odd is an understatement of epic proportions. A mixture of guys in pink shirts or blouses of some kind (as Charlie Murphy says "You know where you got that shirt and it sure as hell was not the Men's Department"). The other perhaps odder element were the number of chubby 50 something year old women with the makeup that looked like it was applied from short range with a paint gun. These two worlds were intermingling and making perhaps the strangest scene I have ever seen. I've always wanted to try Abscinthe and I imagine it might cause me to hallucinate something more normal than this. I could not bid that place a not-so-fond adieu fast enough. This experience almost made me reconsider my move to Toronto. I thought maybe people here were a bit too in your face for my liking. Somehow we ended up in Chinatown for chinese food so the ship was righted.

Moral of the story: do some background checking on the meeting location if you're going out with a group of people you don't really know. Also even if you are openly gay, you should still follow the rules of urinal etiquette (look straight ahead!). Consider this a public service message.

Stay thirsty my friends and happy holidays!