March 23, 2006

I met Ray by the fountain in Yorkdale mall; the water gurgled uneasily and I had to pee. The need to pee was not the result of too many coffees (I had six that morning); rather, it was brought on by the excitement of seeing Ray for the first time. You see, Ray aims to fling himself from airplanes one day. He’s also the one who first suggested I should bike up and down the monstrous hills of the Niagara escarpment, an activity which resulted in much pain and a neat, little book.

“In my moments of physical agony that summer, I contemplated doing you great harm,” I said. I try to frighten all the people I meet, so I went on to tell him about the camels.

“Jesus fuck! They’re everywhere around here.”

“The mall?”

“Where else? Don’t make eye contact or they’ll follow us.”

We hid from the ungulates in the food court where sculptured dragons winked at us protectively as they farted. Malls are vicious cesspools of insanity that usually serve good Greek food. Consequently, lunch with Ray was perfectly delightful and completely devoid of cameloid attacks. I was still excited an hour later when I got in my car with another cup of coffee and left Toronto.