Missed Connection

If someone had written a missed connection about me over the weekend, it probably would’ve gone something like this:

Saw you leaving the No Frills at the Dufferin Mall. You were carrying 3 boxes of Special K cereal and – how do I put this? – going to town on a ‘Family Size’ bag of Doritos. It seemed…counter-productive. You were listening to your iPod. Fairly certain it was the Backstreet Boys. And you kept looking at your Blackberry and at one point you shouted “Oh fuck off. It’s the weekend. I don’t give a shit that you want your bio updated ASAP. I’ll do it Monday. Why don’t you go back to your yacht or whatever and I’ll head back to my basement apartment and we can go on ignoring each other in the elevator.”


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