From BLYTH, Ontario
September 5th, 2008
Two days left performing brilliantly on the Blyth Festival stage, Soft-Eyed, Shiny-Haired Reader, and my thoughts turn to the future. But first: whither updates on my summer? Why so quiet on all things Blyth, you ask?
Well...what can I say, really? Since one of my two shows closed, the schedule here has committed me to a gruelling six-hour work week (yes, you read that right), and the town itself, nestled as it is in its secret location eighty five kilometres outside the border of hell's half acre, leaves me with little to say. My biggest daily challenges over the last month have been deciding what to bake, stopping myself from leaping off the stage and tickling random audience members, and breaking out in a sweat on my couch watching tiny Chinese girls win gold medals at three a.m.
And what about my Great Big Vow Of Celibacy, you wonder? How is that particular challenge going for me? Well, let's just say that, as it turns out, the best way to meet somebody worth screwing on a regular basis.....is to take a Great Big Vow Of Celibacy. So ja, das vow ist kaput. And you certainly don't want to hear about that. Well okay, many of you do....but to those readers I can recommend several handy websites. No, I'm not on them - don't get your dirty little hopes up, Gutter-Minded Reader. I'm just saying.
So what do I have to share, from this time and place? What pearls of wisdom have my ruminations on the future yielded? Oh boy, you won't believe it! Here it is, my Squirty Little Honeys.....in preparation for my much anticipated return to Toronto and an(other) indefinite period of unemployment, I give you......
THE SKEPTICAL TOURIST'S GUIDE TO POVERTATIOUS LIVING, or.....
FUCK FUCK FUCK HOW DID I DO THIS LAST TIME?
There are always little things to get you through the hard times. Here are a few of my favourites:
Panhandle, late at night, preferably while wearing a balaclava, with the catchy pitch line, "Give me some money or I'll stab you in the face." Okay, so technically that's called "mugging", but must we get hung up on technicalities, people? God! I'm trying to get creative here; roll with it, will you?
Knock over a liquor store. By "knock over", I don't mean rob it. I mean steal a wrecking ball and KNOCK OVER A LIQUOR STORE. It won't do you any good financially, but fuck, dude, it will be awesome.
Go to a grade school during morning recess and play poker for the kids' lunch money. Careful, though, some of the little bastards are sharks. Beware grades three and up. And High Park Junior Public is a bitch. Try to find a school with lots of "special" kids. But not the freaky little smart autistic ones. If they don't have cash, play for gummy worms and sandwiches. In Scarborough, guns. Bonus features: Learn all the latest schoolyard poker slang. And meet hot teachers while being escorted off the premises. Get the digits. Note: Toronto District School Board teacher to unemployed actor = Hot Sugar Daddy. Avoid art and music teachers.....though I hear they may be cutting math and science, too.
Make your own currency using colourful pencil crayons and construction paper. If local merchants refuse to accept it, break things in their store. When cops arrive, offer hand jobs all around. Scot free! Repeat.
Wait for the phone to ring with auditions and job offers. Check for dial tone. Smash phone.
Want to keep busy with a hobby or classes during your unemployment? Interested in learning a new language? Easy. Since you can't afford fancy language classes or CDs...simply find a family that speaks the language you wish to learn and force them to be your new best friends. Invite yourself over for dinner. Make your own key. Sleep with their nieces and nephews.
In my case, I'd like to improve my Spanish, so both the food and the sex should be good. I'll spend Wednesdays with some Guatemalans I've been casing, Fridays with a nice old couple from Madrid, and Sundays - after Spanish-language services at Our Lady of Guadalupe (694 Weston Rd., free blood and body of Christ too....yum) - having dinner at Father Lopez' house.
Put things you can't afford on your one credit card that's isn't yet maxed out. Or, better yet, a borrowed one! Buy some electronics. Spend a day at the spa. Get that diamond-encrusted pimp-cup you've always wanted. And keep a baseball bat by every door of your apartment/cardboard box to deal with creditors. When things get really hot, change your identity and skip town. Hitchhike south and move in with Father Lopez' cousin, Ignacio, in Guadalajara. Get caught stealing avocados and move into a Mexican jail. Learn Spanish there....for free!!!
Entertainment on a non-existent budget? Watch TV through peoples' living room windows! Use your swiped universal remote to change the channel to what you want to watch. Tap on the glass and gesture for them to open the window so you can hear, goddammit.
Speaking of entertainment, the Toronto International Film Festival (or tiffy tiff tiff, as it's known to insiders) is in full swing right now. You know what that means - prime opportunities to take revenge on rich people. Get in line at galas and red carpets and yell, "You suck! Boooo!" at the stars, and try to get their bodyguards to tackle you so you can sue. Bonus points for kicking Angelina Jolie in the shins. Double if she's holding a baby at the time.
Think you can't eat well when you're down and out? Two words: Raccoon bake. Toronto also has no dearth of squirrels, bats and crawling rodents. That neighbour's yappy dog that won't shut up? Chihuahua quesadillas! The cat that keeps spraying your back porch? Tabby on a stick! That's right. This is my territory, bitch.
When feeling particularly bitter, go to Holt Renfrew, gather armfuls of beautiful designer clothes that you can't afford to buy, and ask to try them on. Take them into the dressing room and pee on them. Ha ha! That'll show you, Stella McCartney! Fuck you, Alexander McQueen! That's what you get.....ill-paid store employee! Oh.
Stand in the lobby of a bank and cry. Go ahead, let it all out. You'll feel better. Again, try to break and/or pee on something before leaving. Preferably a manager.
Keep a positive attitude. By murdering at will.
When bill collectors call, talk really, really softly. On being asked to speak up, apologize, saying that there's a problem with your phone and that they'll have to turn the volume up on their end. Once they've done so....scream as loud as you can into the receiver and hang up. Laugh...and laugh....and laugh..... (For some reason, this is even funnier when the caller works for Revenue Canada. I don't know why.)
Move into High Park. keep moving. Don't let the bastards catch you.
And finally, if, even with all of these suggestions for keeping your destitute life kicky and fun, you somehow get tired of being poor:
Take back what you said about Internet porn and pay the bills, yo. It's the responsible thing to do.
Always glad to be of service,
Your hero,
The Skeptical Tourist
