What’s happening, human frappuccinos?
I am in Toronto, Canada for some improv hootenanigans! It involved some B minor hardship getting here.
I have been on so much public transit today that I won an honorary pass to be a crazy person on public transit for the day. And I don’t mean explicit crazy, I mean the vacant look you see in the eyes of so-called normals.
The honorary pass is actually just a club promo card that a guy gave to me claiming it was a map for treasure. The treasure is photoshopped lady parts!
First, I took some Big Apple subways starting at 4:45 in the dAyaM. Once I was out in the city’s extremities where NYC stores its finest airports, I saw an old woman suddenly collapse on the subway platform across from where I was waiting. Three people immediately jumped into action and helped her up. They also did it with zero fanfare and a thousand percent professionalism. That got my humanity up and at ’em, but I still didn’t feel awake. “No comment” from my introspective side.
Then many hours later, I got to the airport and cartwheeled to my gate, I was so behind schedule. Meanwhile at the gate, they had everybody in a holding bin just waiting and waiting, including me when I got there.
Finally, I went to see the counter to see what was up, and the lady grabbed my ticket all “How dare you” and said I was the last person to board the plane. Nobody announces things anymore! Did everyone else get the boarding announcement on Twitter? Who knows. I expected some dirty looks when I got on the plane but the entire stock of yum-yums looked confused about how they got there.
Oh so I took a long morning’s nap on the flight. Oh and FY(TM)I, I have developed this habit of sitting on my hands and going to sleep when traveling. I don’t know why I do it and it’s not very mature, but I do it and nobody gets hurt. Except my job prospects. Yennyway, when I woke up, one of my hands didn’t work anymore and I had to CPR it back to life by working through some handshakes and fist pumps.
Plus, I was in Canada and I tried to go through customs with no declaration card. When I asked the guy where to get one, he pointed everywhere. That’s how dismayed he was with my stupid U.S. arrogance. I should have just committed and declared myself superior and walked through. Then I went to the money exchange counter and similarly, the lady rolled her eyes around so much, it was like her peepers were those lottery balls in the air tank (the buoyance of annoyance)! But I got my monies, yo.
Then it was close to two and half hours of bus, subway, and streetcar. Triple transit threat! I don’t really know how to use bus transfers; I’ve always preferred subways so sometimes I forget how powerful they can be. I passed through a huge chunk of the gorgeous city and learned all about the bus clique that rules it.
Now the bed and breakfast that I booked that I secretly hoped was a hotel is a little cray-cray: 1) There is one visible power outlet! 2) The bathroom is across the hallway! 3) There is no TV in the room! 4) The Internet adaptor looks like a spaceship! 5) The owner gave me a lesson on Toronto transit and I didn’t laugh at the right places when he made jokes! 6) There are hard candies in the lounge! 7) I went with the cold breakfast option instead of the hot one so we could catch more zzzz’s. What if I chose wrong?!
That’s all for now. I gotta nap or my brain is going to leak out through my split ends, and that’s tacky.
Also, if anyone sees my roaming cellphone, tell it I’m not spotting it the money.
P.S. Toronto is super pretty, clean, and pleasing to my senses, the girls are coming soon eeeee, and I’m sleep blogging again. GNITE!