Call me Cabana Boy.
Okay, I am myself again. I have not been sleeping and stressing and snapping and using alliterations far too frequently lately, but now I am finally able to let my shoulders drop and enjoy myself. Why? Thanks for asking. I finally found a home.
It’s in West Vancouver. If you don’t know, it’s the swankiest place in town (and, historically, the most expensive area in the most expensive city in the country). So how did country mouse Jag, who has only 12 cents in his checking account and a potato and an ice cube in his savings, do it? This is hilarious. I am renting a one-room cabin/guest house on some rich dowager’s property. No, seriously.
She’s a kind woman, the renter (I reminder her of her son apparently. Thank you Hilltop High School Drama club for all my ersatz charm) and showed me around the neighborhood. I can’t wait until some of you visit. It’s fucking beautiful out there. Lush trees everywhere, I’m an 8-minute walk to the ocean. A nice little strip mall with a mom and pop produce shop and a coffee place that sells spinach somosas is the next block over. There are a lot of Lexuses (Lexi?), Mercedes, Beamers and Jaguars around which made me feel agitated and lily-livered. But at least I saw a few brown people around the landlady is an Iranian refugee and, forgive my generalizing, any immigrants who achieve such noteworthy ascendancy in a new land usually appreciate it more and garner more respect from me, certainly.
It’s 650/month. Which is a lot for a room. But it has a full bathroom in it, a kitchen, a bed, a TV, a table, two chairs and a couch. The rent also includes utilities and cable and Internet, so all in all I think I did the best I could do for the time being. I’m happy. Come visit, we’ll fuck up some trust fund babies and spray paint the walls of the Yacht Club.
What else?
Hooked up with my boys Themba and PATRICK “FUNKMASTER” LUBON: the king of rock. There is none higher. Sucker MCs should call him sire.
It was fucking great to see those cats again. We grabbed a beer; and saw some of the Chappelle lost episodes, also we booted a bottle of vodka for two underage girls. No need to thank us. Just doing our jobs, ma’am. They live in a nice area (Kitsilano, for the Vancouver-philes who are taking notes), walked around for a bit. It’s a rare and tenurial thing to have those friendships that after a year apart you can pick up instantly where you left off. I’m exceedingly fortunate to have more than one or two friends who I can say that about. Today after I meet them fools for lunch, get orientated at school, then hit up Cap College (I’m now ensconced enough to use the abbreviation) to pay some fees, I think we’re going out and throw down properly. I could use it.
Oh! I saw Jhen Pabilablillanioo on the bus yesterday and we had a brief chat. Would you look at that! Only a few days in the city and I’m already running into people. I belong here.
INTERESTING VANCOUVER FACT: sometimes when you allow a girl in a car to pass before you at a crosswalk she’ll invite you to a nearby bar flirtatiously as she drives away. What a place.
It’s in West Vancouver. If you don’t know, it’s the swankiest place in town (and, historically, the most expensive area in the most expensive city in the country). So how did country mouse Jag, who has only 12 cents in his checking account and a potato and an ice cube in his savings, do it? This is hilarious. I am renting a one-room cabin/guest house on some rich dowager’s property. No, seriously.
She’s a kind woman, the renter (I reminder her of her son apparently. Thank you Hilltop High School Drama club for all my ersatz charm) and showed me around the neighborhood. I can’t wait until some of you visit. It’s fucking beautiful out there. Lush trees everywhere, I’m an 8-minute walk to the ocean. A nice little strip mall with a mom and pop produce shop and a coffee place that sells spinach somosas is the next block over. There are a lot of Lexuses (Lexi?), Mercedes, Beamers and Jaguars around which made me feel agitated and lily-livered. But at least I saw a few brown people around the landlady is an Iranian refugee and, forgive my generalizing, any immigrants who achieve such noteworthy ascendancy in a new land usually appreciate it more and garner more respect from me, certainly.
It’s 650/month. Which is a lot for a room. But it has a full bathroom in it, a kitchen, a bed, a TV, a table, two chairs and a couch. The rent also includes utilities and cable and Internet, so all in all I think I did the best I could do for the time being. I’m happy. Come visit, we’ll fuck up some trust fund babies and spray paint the walls of the Yacht Club.
What else?
Hooked up with my boys Themba and PATRICK “FUNKMASTER” LUBON: the king of rock. There is none higher. Sucker MCs should call him sire.
It was fucking great to see those cats again. We grabbed a beer; and saw some of the Chappelle lost episodes, also we booted a bottle of vodka for two underage girls. No need to thank us. Just doing our jobs, ma’am. They live in a nice area (Kitsilano, for the Vancouver-philes who are taking notes), walked around for a bit. It’s a rare and tenurial thing to have those friendships that after a year apart you can pick up instantly where you left off. I’m exceedingly fortunate to have more than one or two friends who I can say that about. Today after I meet them fools for lunch, get orientated at school, then hit up Cap College (I’m now ensconced enough to use the abbreviation) to pay some fees, I think we’re going out and throw down properly. I could use it.
Oh! I saw Jhen Pabilablillanioo on the bus yesterday and we had a brief chat. Would you look at that! Only a few days in the city and I’m already running into people. I belong here.
INTERESTING VANCOUVER FACT: sometimes when you allow a girl in a car to pass before you at a crosswalk she’ll invite you to a nearby bar flirtatiously as she drives away. What a place.
posted by Jag at 9:55 AM
4 Comments:
That's not a bad price for a place, dude. Good score.
Uh, Jag? You do realize that you're, like, the French Prince. You live in a goddamn poolhaus!
So, I'm there from the 6th to the 9th with a lot of other visits to cram in there. I would very much like a visit with you to be one of 'em. So keep in touch, y'all. That is to say: touch it.
Oh, I realize it, Biff. Time to go wife shopping! Just kidding. OR AM I????????? Yes. I am.
Well there I was sitting on the bus, listening to the iPod, and I hear someone that sounds like Jag. And when I look up, the guy looks like Jag, and suddenly I'm shouting "Jag!" just like all the ladies do in his presence. Ahh, indeed, this is actually how it happened.
West Van has a huge Persian (Iranian) presence, actually. Not sure why they all chose to settle there, but there you have it. Also, if you're feeling agitated now, just wait until you shop at the Whole Foods in town! More Escalades in the parking lot than you can shake a stick at.
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