I went to Starbucks in English Bay yesterday to work on the site/get out of the house.  While I was sitting there, uploading the photos from Wreck Beach, this older gentleman (in maybe a security guard uniform?) walked by and smiled to me. Okay. Fine. Smile. He then walked by again maybe 15 minutes or so later. I guess he felt like we’d made such a strong connection through the glass (we hadn’t) that he needed to come inside and have a little chat up with me.


This is a public place so I don’t feel threatened or anything but just curious as to what his intentions are. I am 27, look 21, and have the voice of a teenager so when older men hit on me it always extra creeps me out because I get this pedo vibe.

We chatted for a little bit, me keeping my sunnies on and earphones in. He mentioned how he’d lived in San Diego for 20 years which led to a discussion on border crossings. He was 29 when he crossed the border in 1987 (WHEN I WAS 4) and things were a lot more lax then than they are now.

I got a text message from the guy I like while we were talking which completely threw me for a loop and he commented that he must be one lucky guy if he could get me flustered.
“Yeah, something like that…”

Before he left to go back to work he said, “Wouldn’t it be great if you could make money on both sides of the border?”
“Well, yeah, that would be ideal.”

He gave me his “card”–one of those tear away sheets of paper you might find on a street lamp or laundromat bulletin board–that said “Considering Career Options?” his name and phone number.  He told me to give him a call at either 9/10 in the morning or 9/10 at night.

He came back later to tell me that he’d be off in a hour but I was done with the beach by then and my phone was catatonic, so I headed back to the house.

Ordinarily, I’d never follow up with one of those flyers because they’re too vague and I can be extremely cynical but I figured, hey, why not? Perhaps this is the universe conspiring to my benefit.

I called him this morning and he asked what I was up to the rest of the day. Immediately, I had a bad feeling.

“I’m going to a birthday party later but first I just want to understand what these career options are before we proceed.”
“Well, it’s kind of a long shot so I think it’s  better if we just meet as friends and forget about all that stuff.”
Friends? We’re not friends. I don’t have 52-yr. old friends.
“But I want to know what this even is.”
“You know, I don’t even think it would work out for you. But if we met up and talked at the beach, you know, and just see where things go from there, then maybe we could come up with something that might work for your situation.”


Mayor of Grosstown. Population: him.

Was he serious? Did he really think that was going to work?

Needless to say, I hung up and threw his number in the trash.


About J.

A former twentysomething with a head full of curls and heart full of questions wondering: when we get to nirvana, will there be food?
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