Dear Future Leslee,
If you’ve been reading this blog for more than fifteen seconds (Hi!) then you’ve probably become familiar with some of my closest and best friends – My Sopie, Beaki, the Gorg (of both The Gritty Gorg and The Wine Jury) the Woman (of How to Become Canadian) my Mamasita, Trevs (of Bent The Podcast) and various other ladies and gents. However, like most people who live out there in the big wide world, my life is also populated by a host of familiar faces, people I see everyday (or even just once) but never talk to. I want to talk about those people a little bit, because my life would be so much emptier without them.
Wolfshirt, for example, is an awkward, charming looking young man with too much hair
who regularly takes the bus to work with me. He dresses fairly well, except for this one shirt he wears that makes him look like a stereotypical butch lesbian. Every time I see Wolfshirt I get a warm, fuzzy feeling inside because I know that is exactly
what I would have been like at nineteen if I was a dude…or a stereotypical butch lesbian. Also, I recently saw him walking through the mall with his equally awkward girlfriend and it was so cute I almost died.
There is also a very adorable red-head who rides the bus with me, and I just want to snuggle her so bad, even though I think it would be bad bus etiquette. And let’s not forget the guy on the bus who always wears six or seven watches on his wrists, and then holds one in each hand. Or that one lady who I absolutely despise for no reason at all, except that she looks awful in sling-backs and insists on wearing them every damn day.
Of course, that’s just on the bus. There are dozens of people I regularly see at the hospital, who’s names I don’t know and may never find out. There is the ‘hot gynecologist’ who made me call him by his first name, and whom all my friends take great pleasure in finding ways to embarrass me with. No, guys, I will not go up and say “tell me everything I don’t know about my vagina” or “you can smear MY pap any day” because I don’t want to lose my job, okay? I don’t think this is unreasonable.
My recent favourite is Doctor Hipster, who came by the unit a few days ago wearing rolled-up skinny pants, moccasins without socks and the biggest hipster glasses I have ever seen. He wore his badge clipped to the back pocket of his pants and had what I can only describe as “douchebag” hair. The nurses and I could barely contain our snickering when he walked by, although when he was discussing the patients he did sound like a competent medical professional. I just couldn’t look at him, which is kind of a problem.
So then I made some comics:
Because I don’t get to be a real blog until I make fun of hipsters. Twice.
I showed this to my nurses and they loved it. Also, consider stopping over to the Wine Jury (http://winejury.blogspot.com/) as I just wrote a love letter to booze and it is pretty epic.