The early bus back to Vancouver
is hacked by a crush of overweight teenagers. Eventually I go to
see a movie in an empty Sunday-night shopping mall. Every store had
closed save for the theater and a run of the mill burger joint,
next door, dressed up as an old-skool 50's diner. The Bee-Gee's “Stayin' Alive” plays too loud over the restaurant's sound system. The wait
staff dance, chorus-line style, rolling their arms and stabbing
the air. I call my friend and hope she will hear the music on her
answering machine. I look forward to my cell phone ringing during meetings.
The early bus back to Vancouver is hacked by a crush of overweight teenagers. Eventually I go to see a movie in an empty Sunday-night shopping mall. Every store had closed save for the theater and a run of the mill burger joint, next door, dressed up as an old-skool 50's diner. The Bee-Gee's “Stayin' Alive” plays too loud over the restaurant's sound system. The wait staff dance, chorus-line style, rolling their arms and stabbing the air. I call my friend and hope she will hear the music on her answering machine. I look forward to my cell phone ringing during meetings.