little manhattan

little manhattan

Lately, Ive been hanging out with a friend til around 2 in the morning just chilling, people watching, going to karaoke pubs, and drinking a beer or two. Last night, after a very long but disappointingly boring night at the Zone, my friend and I started our late-night routine of walking along Yonge Street all the way up to Bloor Street to get on a bus taking me up north to Lawrence Station, and him to Dufferin Street.

I usually dread sitting or, if unlucky, standing on a bus known as the vomit comet, which got its reputation after the fact that there is more than 80% chance of witnessing someone vomit, a humiliating relief, before reaching your destination. Some are pretty polite about it; they would shout at the top of their lungs begging to stop the bus because they know theyd explode in 3, 2, oh, she didnt make it.

Last night, though, no one vomited. In fact, it was quite an interesting night. A rugged-looking nerd of a guy decided to stand up and start yelling, Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an House of the Dead and the entire bus went from a pig sty to a courtroom. You can feel the tension in the silence, as well as the intensifying eye of strangers looking right back at the tensed and awkward orator. Briefly, the man wanted the world to know how much he loves this mexican lady, and how willing he is to keep her forever.

The dilemma I think is that they have some language barrier; He speaks English fluently but not Spanish, while she speaks Spanish fluently but is not very comfortable with the English language albeit she can converse in English properly, if not fluently. He shouts, I really love this woman and I want this to work, what do you guys think?, to which people replied, Yeah! Woohoo! I love her, too! And me, too!!! A few seconds later, the woman standing right next to me walked in front of him, hugged him, then kissed him, and everybody just clapped and hollered. Say Cheese!!! This is a kodak moment folks.

Eglinton is next, Eglinton. And sorry, no champagne in the bus, the bus driver announced. As the bus pulled over, the couple got off, walking while holding hands together. As for me, as much as I found it a bit romantic, I couldnt help but be ambivalent about it. It was, nonetheless, quite a crowd-stopper.



Love isnt about ridiculous little words. Love is about grand gestures. Love is about airplanes pulling banners over stadiums, proposals on jumbo-trons, giant words in sky writing. Love is about going that extra mile even if it hurts, letting it all hang out there. Love is about finding courage inside of you that you didnt even know was there. Gabe (Little Manhattan)

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Post je objavljen 22.12.2007. u 14:54 sati.