Today after work I came home and got in the car to go over to the exciting Madison Centre Mall (Save on Foods, Winners, Car Insurance Salesman, Shark Club Bar and Grill [and cold beer & wine store]) to source a gift for an old friend who has everything – no, really, everything – and is turning 30 tomorrow.
It was good – me and the car. The car was happy because the other day I gave it clutch fluid. Now its clutch provides resistence when I press it instead of just sighing heavily as it did last week. I was happy too. I was all get me some SFU Radio! I’m’a driving! unlike the other day, before I got the clutch fluid and it was raining heavily and my route to the Canadian Tire was detoured and the detour led me through an industrial warehouse wasteland and at the end of the road I ran over a giant rubber penis (I am TOTALLY SERIOUS) and then ended up going south on Willingdon which, it should suffice to say here, is the wrong direction.
Today I remembered the detour (and I couldn’t forget the rubber penis even if I wanted to because how does that end up on a road near a McDonald’s i’mlovinit that used to be the floating McDonald’s from Expo 86?) and I went all the way up to Willingdon and turned left which is North which is the Correct Way, you see how everywhere I go is North except Metrotown which is SouthEast? and suddenly realized, as I looked at the lines of cars waiting to turn onto the highway and the glistening brakelights stretching out in front of me as the rain did fall, so heavy, like an olympic hurdle and my chest began to tighten but not with unbearable emotion but with that kind of intensity where you have to say “breathe! Don’t forget to breathe!” that I was in rush hour traffic, in the heavy rain. Heavy!
