So it was midnight, we had just returned from our fabulous evening with Kathy, and my daughter was squirming miserably in our hotel room due to the mysterious rash she had somehow picked up along the way. We're guessing it was an allergy to the soap used in the bedding at our first hotel.
"Okay honey, I'll go find a drugstore and get you some Benadryl and Calamine lotion."
The gentleman at the front desk was very helpful. "Just go around the corner and down the street about 4 blocks. There'll be a drugstore on the corner."
I could have sworn I detected a slight smirk on his face when he said this.
So I grabbed my 17 year old son Brandon, and we embarked on our journey to find relief for my daughter.
As soon as we stepped out the front door of the hotel I realized this was going to be an interesting walk. Two barely-dressed women just to our right were cruising the incoming cabs for Johns. Brandon didn't notice. I only noticed because I was concerned that they might catch a cold.
100 feet ahead of us on the corner were two guys dressed in tight leather pants and cropped belly shirts. The first guy was tall, had a goatee and wore a studded dog collar around his neck. The other guy was much shorter with spikey hair and wore leather suspenders. They were both wearing heavy eye liner. Brandon didn't notice. I only noticed because I was concerned Brandon might see them and make me explain.
Immediately after we rounded the corner of Jarvis and Carlton, we started hearing a loud, almost karate type of yelling. We quickly came upon a hunched over old woman who was either on some serious drugs, or was mentally ill. We slowed our pace and walked behind her for several hundred yards as she repeatedly swung her right fist through the air in a simulated punch to an imaginary foe, all the while letting out a shrill "aaaaaahhhh" with each swing.
Just as we thought this poor woman would probably get scooped up by the police, a taxi driver who had been leaning against his cab stepped out in front of her, opened up his arms and said, "Come here sweetheart, you need a hug!" at which point she buried herself into his shoulder as they gave each other a huge squeeze.
On the next corner I saw Brandon do a double take at 2 women on the corner who were packed into tiny miniskirts. I think he thought they were just college girls waiting for a bus. I don't think he made the connection.
At this point the crazy ninja lady had worked her way down the sidewalk about half a block ahead of us and had disappeared into the alcove of a store front. As we passed by Brandon elbowed me in the ribs. "Dad," he whispered, "check it out!" This is when we both had the pleasure of witnessing a near perfect "squat and poop." Pants down around the ankles, shoulders forward, butt back. Difficulty level 10. We gave her a 9.5 because she took an extra step on the landing.
And so we eventually made it to the extremely busy Drug Mart, purchased our things and headed back to the hotel. As we rounded the corner of Jarvis Street, the two "ladies" I had noticed when we first left were approaching us on the sidewalk. The one on the left had full curly blond hair, a choker and was wearing a turquoise "bra" that was designed for a chest at least 2 cup sizes smaller. She had a belly ring and wore a minuscule micro skirt that barely covered her lady parts. I wondered how she could walk in her 5" stiletto heels.
As soon as we walked into the hotel lobby Brandon turned to me and said, "Dad... those women outside looked exactly like the stereotypical prostitutes you always hear about."
"Huh," I shrugged. "I guess I didn't notice."
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