Why don't you want to play, I'm tired of this piece of string..

This is a post dedicated to the sketchy people I have encountered upon moving into the illustrious South End.

I should preface this by saying that one of my favourite activities is people watching. As a result I have become very astute at observing people and what they look like/ are wearing etc. One of my favourite activities is sitting on my door ledge to my patio which faces the street, and since I live on the 2nd floor, its a great place to watch people.

The very first week I lived here I had some people over for some beers before we were going to a bar, and it was still warm enough to sit out on the patio, and so we were enjoying the summer's night. This dude stumbles over the lawn and begins to tell us this crazy story about how he crashed his car and he was kind of fucked up from that and the car was at the towing company thats just down the street and he was just looking for a place to stay for the night. So he was wondering if we knew of any place that he could stay, aka if he could stay at my place, and if that wasn't kosher, if we could spot him any cash to get the bus home. (the imaginary bus that leaves halifax in the middle of the night). Naturally, we tell him, sorry dude can't help you and so he stumbled off into the night.

The other sketchy encounter happened about a week ago. I was walking home around 6pmish and I had my giant headphones on, and just as I got outside my building, this very well dressed, clean cut dude in his mid-20s stopped me on the street. He then told me this crazy story about how he had to get back to his boat, but he was drunk, but he had to go get his uniform, but he was drunk, and he had to get back to the boat (keep in mind I live aprox. 4 minutes from the harbour) and he wanted to know if I could give him any money. I told him (honestly) that I really didn't have a single cent on me, then he asked if I thought I'd have more on me later, and if that was the case, could he have my number so he could call me later to see if I had any cash. At this point I smiled and walked away.

All this is not to mention the lady who throws rocks at my patio window to signal that she is there to pick up my recyclables. Though, half the time it just freaks me out and I hide and forget that its her to give her the bottles....

Then, there are the people that I silently observe while taking breaks on my patio door ledge.

I notice that it is mostly the men that have the most glaring fashion things going on. For instance, the first night I witnessed man Uggs, I thought that the world was literally about to end. He had sweat pants tucked into them and everything like every single obnoxious DAL Toronto girl. I wanted to scream. Naturally, I couldn't resist calling an equally fashion interested friend and expressing my horror to him.

Then last night, I saw a guy with a white leather man purse, but he was walking with his girl friend as they were holding hands and walking really close together. Now, I'm no expert, and I mean, I do read Vogue and Nylon every month and I like to think I know whats goin on with fashion, but man purses? Really? Like, really?? Jeeze...

Either way, I seem to always live in colourful neighbourhoods when left to my own devices to find housing. (See Gilmour Street, Ottawa.). But that's cool, because it gives me things to write about....