Even mountains erode
Stories for the careful
I was on a work trip in Vancouver a few weeks ago, and characteristically got stuck there when high winds at home forced our flight cancellation.
Luckily there was a wheeled option, so we all agreed that it was for the best and mentally prepared ourselves for the arduous 4 hours + our travel was going to take, but to get home at night? Priceless! Harbour Air arranged for all of us to ride to the airport in two taxis. Myself and two others hopped into the first taxi (early bird gets the worm!) and we immediately found out why the three of us had sort of gravitated to each other: We are all Lilliputians. I was the tallest, for reference, standing a whopping 5’2’’ (which Ian keeps telling me isn’t true, but it is. They measured me at the hospital!).
Anyways, the three amigos consisted of myself, as the tallest. Then there was John, the tiniest Black man I have ever seen, and Heather, who was so friendly you couldn’t help but have an amazing conversation right off the bat with her.
John told us he was in Vancouver for work (we all were), but that he’s been visiting friends in Vancouver recently to watch the Olympics. Specifically the Olympic Canada gold match for hockey (that we lost, for shame. Extra shame that we lost to the USA-ians, who are terrible people). He said they were out all night partying, and then he went back to the hotel to snooze for a few hours, then up at…3 a.m. or whatever that god-awful time of the night? Morning?? to hit the pubs and cheer on the team.
Heather and I were deeply impressed at John’s commitment. Particularly to partying. There’s no way I have that kind of stamina, man.
Heather told us she loves to dance, after hearing about John’s dancing all night. Apparently she goes to a dance class (called Ecstatic Dance?) offered at the Edewelwiss near me. It’s an 11 a.m. dance party that has a few rules, like no talking and no cell phones.
I told her I’d been curious about what goes on there, and that I had heard rumours that it hosted swingers parties…
Heather confirmed that it wasn’t a swingers event, just a ‘dance your butt off’ kind of event.
Once we got to the airport, I was fuming at having to dump out my drinks (so it’s fine if you are on a float plane, but the minute it has wheels, there are rules??), and spied like… 10 cans of Yerba Mate that someone had to relinquish as well. I snatched one up, popped the top and chugged it. Also offered some of the cans to my new buddies.
No takers, but I did that can proud. Also it tasted SO BAD omg. Warm Yerba Mate in whatever gross, vaguely bitter flavour? People spend money on this? For like 10 unopened cans? Sheesh.
Reminds me of that 90’s classic hype drink, Orbitz. Anyone else remember those? My sister and I saved up some allowance and bought some bottles at the Mac’s near our house. I took one big swig and instantly hated it. So gross.
Adios, Orbitz. I dumped it down a drain.