Today in my milk crate...

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So he’s walking down Bloor on a sunny Friday afternoon, and he thinks to himself, “Man, I really could go for a cigarette right about now.” Reaching into the inner pocket of his vest (he is nothing if not hobo-chic) he pulls out his pack of DK’S, that “full flavor Canadian blend” that spells flavour the American way, despite being emblazoned with a Canadian flag. Opening the pack he grabs the last cigarette, lights it, and begins smoking.

But what to do with that empty pack? Oh, here comes the answer—toss it into the milk crate of that bike parked in front of the market. This corner is missing a garbage can after all.

And that’s how the crate ended up with this last memento. Unfortunately for the unknown smoker, however, there was a phone number written on the back of the empty pack. Although not formally trained in the art of handwriting interpretation, I can say one thing with certainty: it looks like a girl’s writing. So it seems dude has lost out: from the way she curves the two circles of her ‘8’s, I’d guess she’s fairly attractive.

posted by c. @ 10:20:00 p.m.