Anodyne
Sunday, September 03, 2006
 
Die, Yankee Dog!

Last week's paving crews have completely blocked off Main and Broadway. No buses, sporadic traffic, sidewalks blocked by bright orange barricades and perforated plastic fencing. Steamrollers, asphalt trucks, sulfurous fumes! Plus tourists.

In wander two lost American hippie-goths:

HIM: Ponytail, black shirt with a grinning clown's face on it, combat boots.

HER: Ponytail, trashed camera, weird-ass rose-tinted 70s glasses, whinnying laugh.

CJB: Morning!

HER: We're going around asking bookstores about fun stuff to do in Vancouver.

CJB: Such as?

HIM: Y'know, where all the cool bars are.

HER: [screechy laugh]

HIM: Is this a trendy part of town?

CJB: You're kidding, right?

HER: You can't help us?

CJB: I'm not really a "trendy" kind of guy. Sorry.

HER: What, you just work here and go home?

CJB: Basically, yeah.

HIM: You don't have a favorite bar?

CJB: Sure I do. I just don't want you in it.

HER: What's that supposed to mean?

CJB: Die, yankee dog!


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