HOLYMOTHEROFINDIANAJONESI'MGOINGTOSTARTABUSINESS!

right.
tuesday night.
last-minute thwarted plans to see an old friend, two other possible events, probably constructive as well, but i opt for the third, which is, an improvised retreat to one of the time-honored U of T libraries to do a couple of hours work on my latest creative endeavour.
a few hours later a phone call from Monsieur le Jp. a late show? why not.
we see atom egoyan's latest at the varsity and decide to wander home through the mist, because, you see, mister JP's iron horse (read: sturdy and time-honored bicycle) got stolen about four days ago, so he no longer has autonomous transportation.

we're standing at the northwest corner of Spadina and Bloor.
I'm complaining.
neither of these things is particularly unusual.
i see a man cycle by.....ON JP'S BICYCLE.
it seems that this TOO is not unusual.
something happens to my face, 'coz jp turns around to see what i'm staring at. simultaneously i say "DUDE" and point (somewhat uselessly, to be frank) in the direction of his bicycle, and he spins around and leaps forward to grab his said two-wheeled wonder from some greasy drunk man who is now loitering in front of the 7-eleven.
I'M SSSOOOO NOT JOKING.
for those of you poor things new to this fair blog, you may want to verse yourself in the events of 17th January of this year, when i too had my bicycle stolen, only to see the rapscallion that nicked it cycle by me less than two hours later and I got to reclaim the bloody thing.

of course, in very steflenk fashion, i had to shake the mofo off my bike in the middle of the intersection of bathurst and queen during a red light, and in suitably jp fashion, mister drunk man got off his bicycle amiably, insisting he had been meaning to give it back all along, and even pulled a red reflector out of his pocket and said "hey, i got you this".

REGARDLESS. all i can say is, i'm going to start a business.