Sinking back into life in Vancouver, I’ve realized that post-Offshore I know a lot of people here. So many that I’m contemplating buying a day planner to keep track of my social life. Hopefully that will cause me less in the way of stress-related headaches. Not completely solving everything, but it would be a small step.
Part of Vancouver seems to be a certain randomness. I’d forgotten about it. Case in point:
New Westminster Skytrain Station, weekday night (can’t actually remember what day it was), around dinner time. Walking towards it with Jeff and Anna we keep seeing people with boxes of pizza – those ones you buy at the supermarket then go home and heat up yourself (“Its not delivery, its Delissio” type thing). Some people have one box, but some have three or four. Clearly something is going on. We turn the corner and see a full-on delivery truck (like the ones you hire to move house, big and boxy) with boxes upon boxes of pizza inside. Around the front at the stairs up to the station there are three people in bright red chef hats giving away pizzas. Drat, can’t eat pizza and am on the way out, not towards home.
Apparently it wasn’t a once-off thing either. It was happening again today at Burrard Station. Is this some crazy promo, or what is going on in Vancouver?!?
And just when I had been thinking of how earthy, organic, hippie, insert similar adjective here, Vancouver is, I saw this sign in the bus and decided to feel awkward and take a picture of it, because I could and because it [somewhat] proved my point. Minus the death by squishing thing. Apparently throwing your can in the garbage will cause you to be crushed by a falling grand piano. Because they fall from the sky spontaneously without prior warning. All the time. I’m glad I don’t drink out of cans very often.