Sunday, March 26, 2006

Sliding Doors - Toronto Style

I popped over to the T-dot this weekend to help my friend, and future sister in law, find a wedding dress. A mutual friend of ours from Edmonton was in town and so the three of us hit the streets together. We had wild success with dress shopping on Saturday morning and then enjoyed a leisurely lunch on the Danforth. The grilled calamari was delicious and the company was fabulous too.

Our subway ride back downtown however, was the source of some calamity….

Beginning uneventfully, our trip necessitated a line change at St. George’s station. We three disembarked and headed for the stairs, simultaneously realizing that the train we wanted was just about to leave the station. As we charged forward, the bell rang to signal imminent door closure. Probably we were about three feet from the doors.

What happened next was an interesting glimpse into our respective personality types. As the bell was ringing, we all paused momentarily (for about a milisecond), individually assessing the situation. I weighed the options, and decided we could make it. There was no turning back. I gathered momentum and charged toward the closing doors, prying them open for my friends as I passed through.

In this split second, I vaguely heard a wary voice cry out “don’t do it.” But it was too late. I had done it and had cleared the threshold, turning and expecting to see my girlfriends on board. Instead, the site I took in was the horrifying reality of my friends on the other side of the door. They had erred on the side of caution. I had taken the bull by the horns. I pressed my sad face up against the filthy glass as my buds became a blur on the platform and wondered...was this the price of my ambition?

There is a sequel to this story but I am too tired to relay it right now.

affectionately yours,


Blogger bbctchr,M.D. said...

Hence, there is another version of you who chose not to act boldly and watched the train pull away. You will lead a dual life until something else happens to annihilate one of you. Sadly, in the other version, Pierre is probably straight...

7:45 PM  
Blogger telltale tabby said...

If he is straight, he is probably cheating on me with some American bitch that he works with or something. I'm better off catching the train and quietly lusting after a homosexual man as I make my way home alone than working in a diner unknowingly making sandwiches for the trollop that stole my BF.

11:05 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home