Orange.

How I love it when Montreal is covered in a layer of SLUSH. People seem to avoid the outdoors at all costs, including of course, us miserable people who are forced to take public transport, how I wish I had a gas guzzling, carbon emitting car in this city...
Anyway, as I sat inside Snowdon metro, awaiting a friend, I read Lord of the Flies, minding my own business. As the weather did not permit people to stay outside, a variety of individuals trickled into the lobby.
Within a few pages of my book, I was being offered an orange by what I could only guess was a homeless man. An orange. Where the hell did he get it? Why is he giving it to me? After I declined his generous offer, he forgot about the orange and found interrest in a bag of Tostitos sticking out of the garbage, empty except for those crumbs that stick in the corners.
A few pages later, these really GANGSTER white kids (well..maybe 15 years old but..hey I can get into bars legally now, I can call them kids HA) enter, the really cool guy in the lead with a cigarette. Oh yes, how cool are you with your 'top', as the french kids say. I mean, I'm all for live and let live, but when someone comes into the metro lobby, SMOKING into my face, I do not appreciate, not one bit.
Something I noticed, as I lowered the volume of my new fetish band Temper Trap, was that a lot of people, especially the younger crowd, spoke with the weirdest of french accents in Montreal. Am I the only one that finds it very...poser-ish?
This is the excitement of Snowdon metro at midnight, check it out.

The Day The Sandwiches Escape

Walking to work on a wet early morning I came across two sandwiches. Not half eaten, left-over sandwiches. No no, they were nicely wrapped in saran-wrap and just laying there. Not wanting to waste the once in a life time opportunity, I snapped a picture of these escaping sandwiches.

What a life I live.

Confusius.

I've began to notice that most of my stories involve men. To support this theory I have yet another little bit about yet another odd man.
For some reason or another, it was actually busy at work. I finally had more to do than sit down on two overturned milk cases with a good stephen king in hand.

This man was next in line..he orders a coffee.
-'A small?' I ask.
- 'Yes, yes! With one crème and 3 sugars inside.' He almost spits out he's talking so fast. His words seem to ram into eachother and grunt: Hey watch where you're going asshole!
I make his coffee just as he asked..or so it seemed.
- 'What! (sounded more like VAAT!) You put de cream inside?' He exclaims.
- 'But you said..'
- 'Fine fine, give me coffee.' He gives in, ushering me along with a wave of the hand.
So I give him his coffee and move on to the next person in line.
- 'More crème!' The man demands. 'More sugar too!' I excuse myself to the customer I had been serving and grab the cream and sugar.
- 'I need new cover for coffee, please..I excuse myself..I'm sorry, sorry.' He adds. Not only does his cover have nothing wrong with it, there is hardly a drop of coffee on it..why use another one!
I hand him the cover and he finally leaves...for good, atleast for tonight.
So, verdict.
a) Learn your demands...indide or ON THE SIDE?
b) Say please more often!
c) Stop wastin coffee lids god damnit!

Taxi Driver.

Back to dunkins it seems to be...working the late shift once again...crap.
The good part is I happened to fall upon an interresting exchange, it went as follows.
Man comes in, orders coffee + donut, combo number 1.
Second, slightly drunker man comes in, approaches man number 1.
- 'Hey, are you the taxi driver?' He began, in a drunken slur of words.
- 'Umm, yah.'
- 'Would you want to give me a ride home?'
- 'Sure, where do you live..'
- 'Where do YOU live?' asks the drunk.
- 'But i'm driving you home...Where do you live?'
- 'In the area...' He answers vaguely. 'But first, what are you? Cause I'M jewish and I only take rides by other Jews.
- 'Well I guess you'll have to ask someone else..'
- 'Damn right i will! I'm Jewish!'
This is when the taxi driver grabs his coffee and donut and heads toward the door..drunk in tow, still asking questions.
-'So where you from?'

What do you think ended up happening?
a) He gave him a ride.
b) He continued annoying every other customer outside until I was on the verge of calling the police.
c) He managed to convert the taxi driver to being Jewish.

24h

My coworker and I were were chatting it up when this odd looking man with a figurine in his hand came up to the counter.
"So, at what time do you close at here?" he asks innocently enough.
My coworker replies...
"We're 24h actually,"
This seemed to have a profound effect on the poor man.
"But...if...then when do you SLEEP?" He asks.
My coworker and I exchange a confused glance.
"Well we have different shifts..." she answered calmly.
"OH! Good, because, when I don't sleep...I go crazy! Well, I'm already crazy btu I get even WORSE! (insert crazy laughter here)". Then he went back to his table, where he had yet another figurine waiting for him.
I tell you, I don't know what I would do without these people.

Vanilla Cream.

Alright, so I started working the day shifts now.
This..(sorry but its true..) really fat, white haired, cross eyed, crooked teethed, smelly man that came up to the counter.
He pointed to the Vanilla creams.
"Two." He barked. I could almost feel the spittle that showered from his mouth.
After bagging his donuts and giving him his change, he exited, shuffling his feet.
My coworker approached me then.
"That man there, you be careful with him," she warned.
"Why?" Was my obvious response.
"Because he might just shit in front of you."
At first I thought this was some sort of expression and asked if she meant..literally shit in front of me.
She then replied that, yes, this man shits himself for all to see inside the Dunkin. She explained how he'll srunch up his face and 'force' not to get into too much detail.
Lets just say I was at the same time completely disgusted and yet..I find this quite hilarious.

Anyway, yesterday, a Saturday, he came back. I panicked when I saw my boss had taken the rack of Vanilla cream donuts in the back.
He saw the empty space where his precious donuts usually were and started pointing and uttering weird souounds that might have been words.
"They're in the back one second!" I quickly explained, giving my present customer his change.
That is when it happened.
I saw the face, I heard the forcing noise, I.. I witnessed what my coworker had warned me about.
I ran to the back and fetched his donuts, distraught and horrified.
This is my Mr. Vanilla Cream, who, I've been told is forbidden from using our bathroom because well..lets just keep it at he makes QUITE the mess.

Pigeons

Pigeons are a theme here in cusco it seems...
First, I get handed a pigeon by a little boy on the street. His father/brother/Idunnowho grabbed it and put it in his arms, and then he gave it to me...I held a pigeon.

Then, as we were sitting at the Main Plaza, this lady grabbed a pigeon, brought it to the fountain, started dipping it in.
OH YM FUCKING GOD SHE IS DROWNING A PIGEON TO EAT IT!
No, she only bathed it, then put it back in the grass...and fed it.
I dont understand..do you?

Glen.

As I was passing one of the many security stations/customs/bag check with my mom, this guy that was in back of us stuck out his hand and..¨
"Hi, Im Glen from Toronto"
He shook both my mothers and my hand. I must admit, I was so surprised I didnt say a word.
Then, we passed customs and..never heard of Glen again.
What the hell was the point? Honestly?
a) He was just being friendly
b) He wanted to get to know my moma
c) He somehow managed to steal our identities by shaking..our..hands?
This is just the beginning of my story in Peru.

Pregnancy.

Props to Roxanne for the awesome story!

The Application.

Under normal circumstances, this application would explain itself. BUT, I just can't get the resolution clear enough.

So, I went in the "kitchen" to get some donut boxes for what, 2 minutes? When I came back, this job application was on the counter.

How about THAT? Let's just say I was quite surprised. I laughed OK!

My Job.

Well, I thought I would actually introduce my job. Voila!
While I'm at it I might as well tell a llittle story.
You see the big black thing? Well, THAT is the Interac machine, right next to it is my cash, under that is the cash DRAWER. Well, this drawer rests on a sort of shelf. One day, I was working, and from exactly this viewpoint, I saw a little head poking out righttt next to the drawer.
Yes, a tiny head. I'm guessing a rat but hey, it could have been a large mouse.
Well, I looked behind the drawer, and it just wasn't there anymore.
It simply disappeared!
I know it's not funny or anything, but I mean, I still don't get how the hell it got there. There's no holes in the floor or anything. ODD.

In a Flash.

BON, Chatting up some of the customers brings up interresting stories at times, such as this one story about our old friend El Indie. Our dear faithful customer was peacefully puffing a cig when El Indie came up to her (I can imagine his calm, innocent face. HAR HAR). It was winter, and so he had a jacket on, with clothes under (this is very important you see). This is when he decided he would RIP OPEN his coat and expose his clothed body to our smoking customer.

All the while screaming bloody murder.

Now, when people ask me if I make these stories up, I can now refer them to customers, or witnesses as I like to think of them, of these events. Go ahead, come on, ask them.

I MUST relate this to yet another situation my cooli-o friend told me just this morning. At the long awaited release of the new Harry Potter book, my friend had calmly exited the bookstore and was walking through the parking lot when this man in a burgundy robe, yes, burgundy, appeared. Before she knew what was happening, he WHIPPED open his robe and yelled:

I LOVE HARRY POTTER!!!!!

Can you imagine a naked man yelling this, butt naked, in a parking lot, while shaking his hips from side to side? Oh, AND taking almost dancing steps in your direction? I can, and I find it quite disturbing.

So to all you Harry Potter fans, beware.

Guns.

Now that spring is showing it's sexy face to our wonderful city of Montreal,

my D & D is an oven. I mean, I'm hot behind the counter, and when I'm hot, I get drowsy. So this is when mr. X comes in and orders a coffee.

"Am I fat? Do I look fat?" He asks after i place the coffee in front of him. I of course answer with a very french "Ben Non!"He then asks me which donut is the least fatty. After pointing out the whole wheat and old fashioned ones, he waves his hand and says:
"Nah i'll have the chocolate honey dipped,"
GOOD JOB.
Anyway, he pays his fat-saturated donut with coffee.
Then came THE question.

"Do they have guns?"

I thought hard, wondering who "they" was. I figured it was the customers in the lobby, I thought right.
"No, not that I know of..."
"I don't know," he continuued. "You sure?" Then he went to sit down with these men.
I thought of the many things I could have said to this odd question.

a)YES they do! They're out to get you!

b) Yes, but shhh don't tell anyone (wink wink)

c) No, BUT I DO!

El Indie.

So this story begins at the beginning of my donut serving career.
This man strolls in like..wel like he's coming to order a coffee.
He does, order I mean, and pays with a 20.
"So, 17.43$ is your change..." I said, with a smile of course.
He looks at the ten and the five with dawning confusion.
"No, I payed with a ten." He takes the ten and gives it back to me.

What to do?

a) Agree with the crazy man and take the ten
b)Be paranoid and think he's testing you
c)Out of honesty, give him back the damn ten

I decided to go with c)...even if I was a bit of b) also..

"No, you payed me with a 20!" I almost yelled at his face
This back and forth had been going on for quite some time.
"HERE take the ten, it's yours!" I pushed the ten at him. He took it and sat down.

Then, he started talking to himself..or to the whole restaurant,
whichever you prefer really.

He came back later on, pulled the same BS about the 20 and his stupid change. It didn't take quite as long to push the ten towards him and move on with my "work".

Not too long after this second "argument" he came back, but I was sitting down this time.
I shall sum up his words
"How much is a can? No? It's ok, don't get up," (I hadn't moved)"No, please it's ok, never mind, no, no, it's ok! No can!" Then he walked out.
Viva El Indie!

It's ok..Is for you!

I'm once again hardly working at my lovely D&D when this man comes to the counter. He had already ordered a while back, so I'm guessing: he wants another donut!
"Which one's your favorite?"

Thats easy!

"Jelly. No questions asked."
"Alright, I'll have one of those."
So, I give him the donut, he pays for it. Then, as I'm turning around he says:
"It's for you."

Hey stupid, I work here I get them for free.

"Oh, no that's ok!" Tending the Jelly donut to him.
"No no, don't worry, they won't see you!" Pointing to the surveillance camera.
"Um..ok..thanks..?"
Then he left, all happy at this great gesture he did.
Congrads.
I then handed over the donut to someone in the lobby.
They were happy.

But HONESTLY you don't do things like that!

Am I The Crazy One After All?

Ok, so minus the rabbit poo, isn;t this amazing?
I found my rabbits' bowl, empty, except for this one piece of paper.
I swear on both of their heads, I did not put it there!

Disguise.

Hmm, Am I crazy? Are they just superintelligent?

What do you say?

Red Whale Adventures Continued...

As my D & D friend follows me around everywhere now..and is beginning to nag... I decided to take pictures of her to annoy her, since she absolutely despises being photographed...

Taking the metro...

Just studying some philosophy...

So yah, she's getting comfortable. pff.

The Red Whale.

So I was hard at work as usual. When I was overcome with sudden inspiration.

The scotch tape was empty. I must change it.

The intelligence of my boss impresses me everytime. He buys the whole scotch tape shabang, with the plastic holder and all, when we really just need the roll to put in the tape dispenser.

So there I was, pulling the scotch tape thing apart. I had the leftover pieces in my hand, destined to end up in the garbage. Then I thought t myself:

What ever can you do with an empty tape holder?

This is when Red Whale was born.

Obviously, Red Whale needed a proper habitat, Dunkin' Donuts was no place for a whale!

She seemed at home in her new habitat.

Don't you think so?

This is the beginning of the Red Whale's adventures.

The Artist.

Busy night, studying for an exam between coffee pots.
Just mopped up a juice mess when this very facially hairy man mumbles something I could not even pretend to understand.
I smile and take cover behind the counter.
He goes out, smokes a cigarette.

I observed quietly.

Then he came in, approached the counter.

"I have an exchange to make." He began.

"Umm...for what?"

"A painting...for a coffee."

Jaw drop please.

"I mean..a coffee, it's 1,57$, for a painting, don't have any gifts to give or anything?"

I had seen the painting, worthy of a 6 grade art project for father's day.

I politely refused, waited for him to say something understandable for he had began mumbling again.

When he turned away I took refuge cleaning tables. He gave me a dirty look, took his painting and left.

Now, I wish I had taken the painting just to have proof of this little story of mine.

Anyone would have wanted it?

Bids start at 1,57$

Pokerface

A true story...

How I love Vanier...

"Roussette Quebecoise"

After a little round of talking with my Papa in the lobby, a client approached the counter.
He was looking at me strangely, up and down like.
"Would you have seen me with your glasses on?"

confusion on my part.

I had my glasses on by the way.

"WOULD you have seen me with your glasses on?"

Confusion in its highest form.

I decided to laugh it off. He decided to order.

"French Cruller?" aka Roussette Francaise.

"You don't have a Roussette Quebecoise?" Eyeing me strangely.

Ok. So this is when I decided that this guy was...wacko.

"I wanted a Quebecoise."

What should I have answered to this?

a)Oh! Well I'm Quebecoise! Have me!

b)Nothing, and run away to my Papa.

c)Gone in the back, grabbed a donut and given it to him, saying it was a Quebecoise Cruller.

Hmm. Odd situation I was in.

The CP Man

So, I'm there, filling the coffee beans, minding my own business.
When, a customer comes to the counter, with a doll.

Not just any doll.

A Cabbage Patch Doll.

Then the talking starts.

CP Man: Bavarian Creme! Does it have eggs in it?

Me (totally clueless): Umm...Probably..

CP Man: No. There isn't. I'm sure. 100% SURE.

Me: Ok then..so a Bavarian Creme it is...

I then grab the donut. Scared he's going to jump on my back or something.

"That will be 1.30$ please." Keeping my cool, no problem here!

That is when he decided that his Cabbage Patch would be mooning me. The signature on the ass and everything, in my FACE.

Beginning to question my sanity, I smiled shakily.

Then his tucque came off.

Yes it was now on the doll's head.

I gave him his change, noticing the tiny dread sticking up from his otherwise completely shaved head.

Odd.

Then He was sitting at a table. I couldn't help but observe.

He took a bite of his donut, showed the new contents of his mouth to the doll, and made some uncomprehensible noise/cry.

How was I to interpret this?

a) He was a tortured soul

b) He needed help..

c) Blame it on drugs

Hmm...Case is still open..

Breadcrumbs.

Alright.

So, I was just chilling at work, you know..not doing much...pretending to be cleaning the counter or something as equally amusing.
This is when Breadcrumbs arrives. Yes I have baptized him Breadcrumbs.
He is average looking, whatever that means. I'll leave this TINY detail to your crazy imagination, enjoy.
So, he orders a soup, no problem there. He leaves, already shoving the soup down his throat. I sit down on my milk crates and forget all about Breadcrumbs.
As I was dutifully wiping down tables, I saw him.
With his face...on his soup bowl/ plate. Breadcrumbs and bits of soup stuff were stuck to his forehead.

What to do.

a) Should I wake him?
b) Stare?
c) Alert other customers?
I asked myself these difficult questions, weighing my options, forgetting all about the dirty tables.

I questioned myself a moment longer.
Then I saw that he was breathing, and decided to let him be.

Later on, he had shifted positions to the hangingyourheaddowninemptiness pose.
Not very comfortable looking.

Then, as midnight approached, thus my shift finally finishing, I fantasized about the many ways to awake Breadcrumbs.
a)Should I drop a mug?
b)Or worse, a pile of trays?
c)Any suggestions?
As I exited, I saw that he was still fast asleep...or passed out, who knows!
This was Breadcrumbs story.