Yesterday had two odd moments. First I stop off at the grocery store across the street from my new place of employment and check some old lottery tickets. The guy behind the counter shows me a "result receipt" he obviously just pulled off the counter beside him, he didn't even run it through the machine. After I get him to try again (and yes, his ass has been reported, it gets better) it says my ticket is worth 20 bucks. So yay!
He doesn't believe I have a legit ticket. So he tries calling the local lottery office and is on hold for twenty minutes. During my 30 minute lunch break. He finally gets through, I get my $20, he gets reported.
Fuck-wad.
Second was an odd moment on the way home from work. A very good looking young woman is pouring out tears whilst sitting on the stoop of what I assume was her apartment building. She was dressed in a very nice outfit that looked formal (who goes to something formal in the middle of a Thursday?). Anyways, she's sobbing to her friend on her cell, quite loudly. She's pregnant, her boyfriend isn't home, and her friend, Angel, needs to tell her what to do.
Awkward walking by that.
Then there's the hunt for new apartment, which has made me want to hunt landlords with a rusty spear. $1650 per month for a "two bedroom". You couldn't fit a queen size in the master bedroom and the second was (and I have the floor plan to prove it) nine feet by seven feet. And they wanted to charge me a non-refundable deposit (which in layman's terms is a fee, but apparently not in the eyes of the law) of seventy-five buck to fill out the application form.
So I'm getting a cheap, tiny apartment for a year. If this stupid housing situation doesn't burst by then, I'm buying. In Toronto. Or Kelowna.
I'm beginning to hate this burg....
Job's okay, marketing people need to be kept on a short, tight leash and Laroo still ain't back.
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