Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Spadina streetcar, chilling out against the window

Caucasian male, mid 30s, wearing a full length black wool coat, collar up, grey scarf wrapped up to his ears, offsetting a shock of natural red hair and a few days of growth.

The Eagle, Jack Whyte (Penguin)

Page 246:

And then, without having seemed to move, we were against the bed and falling to the piled furs, where we struggled frantically to discard every scrap of clothing and be naked, body to body, flesh to flesh, without breaking our soul-drowning kisses.


He was drunk when she walked into the club. She stopped dead centre in the spotlight looking like Carrie Otis on a motorcycle in that Calvin Klein poster, cut cheekbones and long, dark wavy hair. Except Jen wore low slung men's jeans, Doc Martens, a worn white t-shirt with Kafka on the front, and an oversized army green jacket with pockets large enough to carry her walkman and a selection of mixed tapes her ex-girlfriend gave her before she transferred from Smith College. He told his buddy to hold his beer; he'd be right back. Then he went into the john and threw up. When he came out she was talking to the people he'd come with. Great, he thought, picturing basketball games, keggers, late night study hall, sloppy attempts to be "the one to change you."


Dressed in Bay Street suit and tie, he walks into the store. The cologne is the first thing to hit him, followed by the churning thump of bass in music he swears he can't even hear. He fingers the rugby shirts and cargo pants, making his way to the back where the walls are lined with ceiling high images of A&F girls and boys, all impossibly hard-bodied. He feels ashamed at the sudden rise in his pants and grabs the first sweater he sees, heading for the change room. She looks up at him, snapping her gum; she's wearing low-slung men's jeans and a loose t-shirt. He notices she's wearing flip-flops. "It's winter," he muses aloud. A girl calls from the other side of the store, her eyebrow cocked and ready. "Hey J, lookin' sexy!" He waits for the girl to remember he's there, holding the sweater at his waist. Just great.

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