And All I Got Were These Two Pictures...

We took advantage of the forecasted sunny breaks of what was otherwise a mixed-bag weekend by heading out to Kitsilano early Saturday morning. We had brunch at Sophie's Cosmic Café, my third time there in the past ten years or so. My conclusion as to its popularity is Location Location Location. It certainly can't be the food— not bad by any means, but nothing special. There is also the people-watching aspect. While Betty and the kids were across the street at the Lululemon mothership, I stood in line for about fifteen minutes behind three women who got intimate by running their fingers through each other's hair and then caressing one another.

Nutritional needs out of the way, I walked along West 4th looking for photogenic store fronts. I noticed something new. The display books at Duthie's all had elastic bands tied around them, to keep the pages from flipping open and getting damaged (an educated explanation on my part). I saw the same treatment at Brigid's Used Books on West Broadway later that day.

I eavesdropped on a few conversations. One was between a past-middle-age gentleman and a twenty-something bookseller. They were talking about the struggle and sacrifice one has to make to become a professional musician. One of them mentioned that Weezer once opened for a now-forgotten local band at the Anza Club, and that the White Stripes, in its early days, played the Student Union Building out at UBC.

I learned one other thing—more a confirmation of what I already know, really. Nice, clean, well-to-do shopping districts make for poor photography. All I got were the following two shots of Pez dispensers.

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An old co-worker of Betty's spotted us at a food court Friday evening. She (the co-worker, not Betty, let's be perfectly clear now) was so despicable I wanted to change my sexual orientation right there and then.

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I had the pleasure to use the following words this weekend: ramshackle, chubby, and hog (as in not sharing).