You can’t chop down a symmetry

A hot night in Charlottetown. Too hot.

Escape to Tim’s for a cooling ice capp. This is the first day we’re really, really glad we have a car with air conditioning. Briefly consider running the car all night and sleeping on the back seat. Just like they do in Alaska to keep the engine blocks from freezing in the winter. Ohhh, Alaska, cool…

Stop at A&W for a Mozza Burger on the way home. Traffic, traffic, traffic. Everyone is out on the streets for their last taste of traffic freedom before the parade in the morning block everything in.

Home to pay bills left over from February (still can’t pay my Island Tel Internet bill online, #$@#$%!). Mozza burger has some sort of foreign congealed mass of boiled bacon fat — or something — in the middle and must be disposed of. #$@#$%!

Off to SDM to buy stamps and skin creme. The special skin creme they keep behind the counter we only know by its price: $2.22. I ask the pharmacist for “some 222 creme” and she looks at me weirdly and goes to the cupboard. They don’t have large bottles. But she can sell me two smaller bottles. The smaller bottles cost $1.11. This makes me very happy. My happiness is all lost on the pharmacist.

I forget to buy juice for Oliver for the morning, so take the long was ‘round to Ken’s Corner. Notice that Ken’s Corner, which used to be called Green Gables is now called Needs. Realize that all Green Gables stores are now renamed Needs. Ponder the demographic reasoning behind the corporate renaming decision. Reach no conclusions.

Ken’s Corner is hoppin’. There’s a dance across the street at the Curling Club. The band, Phase II, is playing a cover of I’m a Believer. The architecture in the Ken’s Corner neighbourhood serves to whirl the sound around into a frenzy.

Inside Ken’s Corner there are lots of people buying cigarettes and gum. There’s a lot of talk of Tyne Valley and people getting their heads smashed in. The woman in front of me has a large flaming tattoo on her shoulder. It sounds as though she, herself, is not from Tyne Valley.

I pay for my juice and marvel at the shapely singularity of the cashier’s nose; it is a work of art.

Back into the car. Turn on Magic 93 and the air conditioner. The Smashmouth cover of I’m a Believer is playing on the radio.

Home to frantically work while the traffic’s still good.

You can’t chop down a symmetry.

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