The record store was on 82nd Avenue in the Strathcona District

The record store was on 82nd Avenue in the Strathcona District. The Strathcona District was the trendy area of town with lots of nice little boutique shops, restaurants and bars. The University wasn’t too far, and on weekends the bars would fill up with young students drinking away their little student lives. The record store was on the shitty side of the tracks. Instead of cool shops, the store was surrounded by pawn shops and a used car lot. A burger joint was on the corner of the block. On the weekends, instead of students, the parking lot filled up with motorbikes and associated motorbike-type people.

I had a fold out couch in the back office; and a TV and a fridge that Patrick’s dad had given me. It was a nice little set-up actually. There was no shower, so I would wash in the sink and get a shower at my parents’ place whenever I could. It was loud and you could hear sirens and motorbikes, and the drunks on the weekends.

Most days the store was slow, especially in the winter.  Business wasn’t enough to need more than one person at the store during the day, so usually I was alone until Patrick came after school. I would sit behind the front counter playing solitare on the computer. Or in the back watching TV.  When a customer would walk in the bell above the door would ring and I would walk slowly back to front of the store and sit down to play another game of solitare.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve. I sit in front of the computer trying to think of something to do to waste some time. I look out the window at the empty streets below and realize I am one of the few who are working today. I’ll have to try to duck out early without being noticed. Maybe I’ll smoke a joint before heading over to the parents’ house. All I really want to do today is curl up in bed with a good woman. Maybe I’ll find one on the way home from work.

We walk along 104 Street on the icy sidewalk.

We walk along 104 Street on the icy sidewalk. It’s one of the first really cold nights this winter. I don’t have my scarf, but I reach into my pocket and grab my toque. “I’m putting on my toque,” I warn her. The whole night we’ve been talking and laughing and I can’t help but thinking that it’s going well. Her smiles and giggles seem genuine, and we’re making a lot of eye contact. I try to see what colour her eyes are, but it’s too dark, and her hair covers them just a little bit. “When am I going to see you again?” I nudge her arm a bit. She says she can’t see me until next week cause she’s working a lot. “But call me before then.” We’re standing beside a little red van. I go in for a hug. Her little grip around my body is nice and tight. I think that’s probably a good sign. We hold on for a second and let go. She gets in her little red van and disappears. I huddle up and walk home in the cold.

Letter Number Two

Chances are
you have no idea who I am.
I mean,
really,
who am I?

This guy that has never met you
and is for some reason
writing
you
a letter?

To say what exactly?
I guess just to say
Hi.
My name’s
Samson.

Letter Number One

I was told about you.
Nothing very specific;
it was fairly vague actually.
But I was told
that maybe we would get along.

Maybe we have similar interests?
I don’t know.
I wasn’t told about that.
Maybe we like the same films?
I wasn’t told that either.

Just that maybe we would get along.
At least we’ve got that.

I was told about you.

Nothing very specific;

it was fairly vague actually.

But I was told

that maybe we would get along.

Maybe we have similar interests?

I don’t know.

I wasn’t told about that.

Maybe we like the same films?

I wasn’t told that either.

Just that maybe we would get along.

At least we’ve got that.

Tuesday September 1, 2009

I am starting to feel like I made a mistake. Well, not a mistake per se, but perhaps things could have turned out better than they have. I didn’t think I would feel this way, but after a while of being out there and realizing that you may not be able to replace what you had, you start to think differently. I am happy though, for the most part, so I don’t worry about things. Moving downtown was a good idea. Too bad this mini-city isn’t real though. People tell me I should move, and in a way I feel they are right, but at the same time I would be leaving too much behind that I’m not willing to lose. After a while you start to learn some lessons. You can only run away so long until you realize that you haven’t really moved anywhere. Sort of like a merry go round, you see all the smiling faces but you aren’t one of them. Every time I’ve tried to run I have ended up back where I thought I would never be. And it has happened again, except this time I can’t go back, I can only move forward and pretend that that time and that place never existed. Just here and now and the people and places in front of me. At least there is a good view now. Living by a hotel is nice too. The people move in and the people move out. Sometime you can watch them when they forget to close the blinds. I feel like I am on a tv show and there is always someone watching, someone commenting on the things that are going on. It isn’t always positive feedback, but it is generally supportive. At some point there might be a plot to this tv show. I check my email again and see that no one has written. You have to give a little to get a little. Of course there are always exceptions to the rule, but not today. I get up but I have nowhere to go, so I just stand in the middle of the room. The kitchen needs to be cleaned. So does the living room. The whole apartment for that matter. But it’s one of those days, the days when you know what needs to be done but you just don’t have the motivation to do it. If only I had tv again. But no. I walk to the fridge and see what is inside. At least there is beer. There’s nothing like drinking a nice cold beer to get motivated. There is a bottle opener on the counter attached to my key chain. I’ve had that one for years. It came in the AC/DC box set I got from an ex-girlfriend. I think I bought her a phone that year. A Disney phone with the 101 Dalmations on it. When it rings it makes a barking noise rather than a ringing sound. I have always been really good at picking out gifts for people, and I am almost positive that one went off very well. The 101 Dalmations phone! You shouldn’t have! I know, but you deserve it. I am the best boyfriend ever. I never listen to that box set, although I am quite fond of it. And I don’t use the bottle opener much anymore. Instead, I reach for the kitchen drawer. There are a couple empty pizza boxes on the counter and I have to push them aside before I can open the drawer. A couple fruit flies escape from the boxes and start flying around me. I try to catch them in my hands, but the bastards are too fast. Damn flies, I don’t even know why there are so many flies in here. I open the drawer and rummage through it until I find the bottle opener. I got this one from my Grandpa after he passed away. I found it and claimed it for my own. Little things are the things that mean the most to me. I never saw my Grandpa use the bottle opener, or even saw it before he died, but it still means something knowing that it used to be his. The beer is cold and feels good in my throat. I usually prefer something darker, but today I happen to have Red Strip in the fridge, so it will do. My stomach has been bothering me this evening and maybe the beer will kill the pain in my gut. It has to be from the pizza. Whenever I eat pizza my gut hurts for the rest of the day. Unless a doctor tells me otherwise then there’s nothing wrong with me, so why take it out on the pizza? It has been a hot day and I wish I didn’t have pants on. I think about taking them off, but then realize I haven’t put the laundry in yet and I have no shirt to wear to work tomorrow. Shit. Now I have to wait for the laundry to finish before going to bed. It’s getting late and the stores are closed and the streets are mostly empty. I can hear voices through the windows. Probably smokers from the restaurants downstairs. I remember about the laundry again and start to gather my clothes. One of these days I need to buy some new clothes. Being poor is only fun for so long. If I stopped drinking I could afford more clothes, but is it really worth it? One for every day of the week, that’s all you need. The washer starts doing its thing. I watch my shirts spin a few times, then get bored. What did I do with my beer? Oh, there it is. I put on the newest Apostle of Hustle and flop down on my couch. What did I ever do without this couch?

Saturday October 10, 2009

My alarm goes off at 8:30 in the morning and I wake up to more Neil Young. Fuck it’s early but I’m supposed to go to the market with Nelly. I shit shower and shave and head out the door. I pick Nelly up and she says she wants to go to the grocery store after the market. I’m not excited about the idea but agree to take her. One of the shitty things about having a car is driving people around. Usually I don’t mind all that much, but Nelly starts talking shit again and I don’t want to hear it. I bite my tongue. We drive to three stores so that Nelly can get everything on her list and after three hours I drop her off and I’m back at home and in a shitty mood. I lie down on the couch close my eyes and go back to sleep.

Friday October 9, 2009

David calls in the afternoon and we make plans to drink beer later. I sit at my desk until 5 o’clock and head to the grocery store for something for dinner. I pick up hot dogs and head home. I fry up the hot dogs and David walks in as I finish eating. “Smells like meat,” he tells me. We drink beer and play poker and listen to Neil Young. Nelly calls and we make plans to meet her and Maureen at the bar later. We get there and there’s a ten dollar cover so we keep walking to the next bar and order something to drink. I call Nelly and tell her we don’t want to pay cover but she says to come anyway. I put my drink under my jacket and walk toward the exit. There’s a young guy at the door who says I can’t leave with a beer under my jacket. I try to reason with him, but he isn’t interested. He watches me finish the beer and I try to make small talk but I’ve got nothing to say and he doesn’t care to talk anyway. Next door I walk right past the door guy like I’ve already paid. He doesn’t say anything. I order drinks for David and I. Nelly gets me to order one for her as well. Maureen askes if I’m buying for everyone but her, so I order a beer for Maureen too. We drink our drinks and watch a band playing on the stage. I know one of the band guys and he says “Samson’s here” into the mic between songs. I smile and wave hi. His name is Thomas Darling and he used to be roommates with my buddy Alan. When the band is done I notice Thomas’ girlfriend across the room and head over to say hi. I have no idea what her name is, even though I ask her almost every time I see her. I chat her up for a while talking about nothing. I have no idea what I’m talking about, but I keep opening my mouth and words keep coming out. She laughs a couple of times, so I must be saying something right. I have a couple of drinks, then David Nelly Maureen and I head out to another bar. It isn’t too busy and Maureen sees some people she knows and sits down at their table. David and Nelly find a table by the window and I order us some drinks. I’m feeling pretty drunk so I order water to take a little break. I get back to the table and Nelly starts talking shit. Or maybe she isn’t talking shit but it feels like she is and I’m not in the mood. I sit there for a while, but then get tired of it and decide to go. I put on my jacket and scarf and walk out into the cold. I walk past Wendy on my way out and I’m disappointed that I didn’t have a chance to talk to her. I’m probably too drunk anyway. Wendy is a waitress and a dark haired indie girl that is just my type. We ran into each other a few weeks ago at another bar and I chatted her up a little. I was looking forward to round two, but it’ll have to wait for another day.

Thursday October 8, 2009

I wake up before the alarm and lie in bed until it goes off. The alarm is set to music and plays Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I stagger over to the bathroom in the dark and sit down to take a piss. After showering and eating breakfast I put on some clothes and open the blinds to the street. The ground is covered in snow and big flakes are falling from the sky. Oh shit. It’s going to be cold today. I bundle up in a scarf and long jacket and head out into the cold downtown streets. Crossing the road I notice an attractive redhead going in the other direction. She doesn’t look up so I forget about her and continue to work. The office is emptier than usual and people eventually stagger in and complain about the roads. I ignore them and bury my head in work. I watch the clock as I work and at 11:45 I bundle up again and head back into the cold. As soon as I step outside I think it was a mistake to leave the office but I tuck my head down and march toward home and food. The afternoon is just as uneventful as the morning and I keep myself busy until 5 o’clock. I call Nelly as I walk home and she says she wants to go for a drink. We meet up a few blocks from my house and decide to go to a sandwich shop to get some food. The menu has changed and the sandwiches have been replaced with expensive entrees. We complain about the prices and order anyway. I eat my expensive entree and drink beer while listening to Nelly complain about boys. She is seeing two guys and can’t decide between them. I smile and nod and order another beer. After paying 40 bucks I head home. As I’m walking home I think I see Joanne. Twice. The first time I realize it isn’t her, but I’m almost positive it’s her the second time. I think about saying hi but I can’t see her face and don’t want to be wrong. I don’t know what she would be doing in this part of town anyway. At home I grab a beer from the fridge and pour it in a glass with a shot of gin and tobasco. I’ve been meaning to write to Ken in Ottawa so I sit down and scribble some words onto paper and stuff it in an envelope. I pour myself another drink, watch some TV and pass out on the couch.