The Ghettos of Vancouver
I’m currently blogging from Vancouver, Canada, where I’m staying with Ritchie until New Years Day. Whenever I need a break from the world and all the stresses that come with it, I seem to have this little habit of escaping to Canada, and for that (and to him and his girlfriend Cheryl) I am completely grateful.
After spending last night learning how to snowboard*, Ritchie, John and I were driving around East Vancouver looking for a bite to eat.
John: Aww, man. We’re in East Van, now. This is the shady part of town.
Ernie: (looks out the window) Doesn’t look too shady.
John: Are you kidding? Prostitution, violent crime, people smoking crack, gangs…
Ernie: Dude, you’re talking to someone who went to high school near Richmond and lived in Oakland for three years. You can’t tell me this place is as bad as there.
John: It is!
Ernie: Dude, where are the bars on the windows? Hell, these quaint little houses still have Christmas lights on them. Is there graffiti somewhere that says “EASTSIDE HUSTLAS WISH YOU A VERY HAPPY HOLIDAYS?”
John: You’re stupid.
Ernie: I’m serious! Is someone is going to offer us something if the car stops at an intersection? What are they going to offer us, sugar cookies? “Yo, man. I gots some sugar cookies.” “HIT THE GAS, RITCHIE! GO, GO, GO!”
Ritchie, who is driving: You really are stupid.
Ernie: Just saying.
Then we ordered a burger at Top’s Restaurant. It had two patties, a fried egg and cocktail shrimp in it. The End.
* Things sore: Wrists and knees (from falling forward), tail bone (from falling backward), shins (from trying to snowboard, toe-edge, off of the bunny hill), tongue (from biting on it as I took a particularly hard fall), pride (from looking like a retarded beached whale trying to get up from the fallen position, also from being lapped by nine-year olds on the bunny hill)


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