The heat is causing a wavy haze to rise from the sidewalks. I’ve been in Toronto for three days, the day I got here I went to the green room and enjoyed their reasonably priced amber ale while slowly inhaling my cigarettes and listening in on a conversation being had by some twenty somethings about films I’ve never watched but would if I hadn’t created a haze as thick as whats coming off the sidewalk by smoking a few marijuana cigarettes. The back alley cafe fascinates me, the fact that it is not on an actual street makes it feel like a well kept secret. One that everyone in the Annex knows. I order some spring rolls and eat. Tasty and greasy, the way that spring rolls should be.
I leave and take a cab to the house I’m staying at. My friend is out working on a computer security gig somewhere in the north of Toronto, via text I tell him I’ll wait for him on his porch. I check the front door and it’s open so I stow my bags inside the front door. I’m unsure which door is my friends place, so I go out and play on my PlayStation Vita, Sound Shapes is occupying my time. I get bored, then I got to one of the many little bars on St. Clair Ave. West and order a beer. The selection sucks so I order a piss Budwiser and drink it slowly as I wait for time to pass. Its 1 am and my friend isn’t back yet. I lay down on the porch couch and pull my trench coat tight around me and close my eyes. Several times I wake up but my friend isn’t there. I sleep until 6:30 in the morning, haphazardly leaving my Vita laying out on the porch in front of the couch and beside my 14 hole Dr. Martens. It doesn’t go missing and is there when I wake up.
Early morning, the temperature is pleasant, about 21 degrees Celsius. It’s going to get hotter. I curse myself for wearing my trench as I walk into the Starbucks to get a coffee. Venti Medium Roast with an inch of cream and three raw sugars. I sip on my coffee as I walk out of the coffee shop and light a cigarette. The thick blue smoke fills my lungs and I exhale a could of pale smoke. I’m more than a little worried, no answer and sleeping outside feels like being homeless. I haven’t showered in four days, I feel gross, but the coffee helps. I grab a bus to the Annex and from there walk to Kensington Market. I ask around to see if anyone at 8 in the morning has any weed for sale. I ran out of my Satanic Kush on my 3 day bus ride to Toronto from Vancouver. No one is around and the criminal I ask that has an answer says it will be hard to find any because it’s “God’s day.” I hate Sundays, people get lazy on Sunday.
I walk around for a few hours and then once The Hot Box Cafe is open I go in and take a seat at one of the “Potio” tables. I open up my laptop and access the latest Doctor Who episode Asylum of the Daleks. I’ve had some input into Doctor Who inexplicable and have a reverence for the show that borders on religion. It takes 45 minutes to get service, I order a cup of coffee and a bottle of water, one of the 4.20$ specials and a fulfillment of the minimum charge for a seat. I found some weed about 20 minutes before I came in, the guy who sold it to me was a new ager into aliens from other dimensions, and using time travel as a method of traversing the distance between stars. He was a total flake… I tried to talk about the exciting research taking place at the Large Hadron Collider but he has none of it… So I left, and went to The Box.
The Doctor Who episode nearly has me in tears and I realize that I’m probably going to love Jenna Louise Coleman’s companion more than I love Amy, I have a thing for red heads, and Karen Gillan is something unattainably else. I’m not going to spoil Asylum of the Daleks as I think everyone with a brain should see it. After the episode a guy with some pretty severe OCD joins me and we talk as we both smoke our weed. The Hot Box lets people smoke pot at the tables and inside has vaporizers. I like it there.
After a while a guy named Jimmy Lightshow, not Johnny Lightbrite as he’s been called, joins the table and has a guy sitting to my left roll a big joint of God Kush, a nice juxtaposition to the Satanic Kush I had been smoking up until the day before. When the joint is half finished he offers me some and my OCD friend says no, I partake and it’s strong. Already I’m drifting into a cloud and my thoughts are wandering to fun places. Jimmy is a puppeteer that does stoner humor and goes to hospitals to perform for sick kids. He’s one of the funniest, nicest, people I’d met in a while. After a short conversation I leave. I’m baked, I’m wired on caffeine, and wondering if I have a place to stay. I get a call. It’s my friend he tells me to come over. Relief. I feel calmer, even more so that I did with the weed. I have a residence for a week.
I take the bus to my friends place and knock. He answers with a giant hug, we’ve known each other for 23 years, and it’s like I’d never left. We smoke some pot and then I go and get some beer and pizza. The pizza is cookie cutter pizza the same as you can get at any one of a million pizza joints. We talk and at 11pm I go to bed. I have arrived in Toronto and have a place to stay. I’m happy. Nothing is getting in the way for a change and it looks like my plans are going to work out. I am relieved.