There is Creativity in a Concrete Jungle
I was late. I’m rarely late! I overslept my alarm, so I woke up in a panic and couldn’t find anything I needed to get ready. I usually leave all of my stuff right by my bedroom door so I can find it in the morning, but I guess I didn't do that last night. In a drunken fury, I must have tossed my bag wherever it was convenient because I couldn’t remember its location this morning if my life depended on it. I almost misplaced my lanyard with my student ID, TTC student ID, and metropass. Together all of those items would cost about $200 to replace! I am so grateful I found it wedged between my twin bed frame and the wall. Glad to see half of my brain is working.
Mind you, I couldn’t catch a break today if my life depended on it. By the time I was ready to leave my house, I missed not one but two streetcars westbound into my job. I live in West Queen West area, which isn’t that far from Liberty Village, yet my trip still took an hour! Not to mention the fact that the streetcar was so crowded at the front but almost entirely empty in the back. After I wedged my way between all the assholes at the front, I found one last seat left. It was right in the back at the far right corner, which wasn’t so bad. I just naturally had to step over an enormous unattended pile of bags that had been shoved in the same corner. It didn’t look hard, and I had headphones in, so I just went for it.
“Don’t do that,” I felt someone push me into the seat as the streetcar jerked to the side. Is someone trying to say something to me?
“I’m sorry?” I took off my headphones and looked at the woman sitting next to me, holding onto one of the many bags from the corner.
“Don’t touch my stuff!” She yelled back to me.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to touch any of your stuff. I just saw the empty seat and went for it,” I replied with a soft tone. “Sorry about that.”
“You stupid bitch, DON’T TOUCH MY STUFF!” She raised her voice while looking slightly away from me.
“I won’t, don’t worry about it.” I bowed my head before I put my headphones back on. I do not need this today lady!
It was only five stops, but it felt like an eternity. I jumped off the streetcar, dodged one car, and hopped back onto the street. I wonder how my shift for Nuit Blanche will go.
I’ve never worked a shift during Nuit Blanche, I’ve only ever been to it. It’s the coolest thing about Toronto. Once a year, in the first weekend of October, the entire city becomes a Mecca for Toronto’s art scene, it’s amazing! Regular buildings you never get access to become these weird stages for the strangest art installations imaginable. When I was a teenager all my cool hipster friends would attend Nuit Blanche and I would just stalk their Facebook pictures the following week. I always wanted to be one of those girls with the coolest pictures from Nuit Blanche. Now as a 20-year-old adult I can go all by myself and it’s great. As an adult, it’s legally acceptable for me to be both out at night by myself and drunk in public now and that my friend is sick.
“You’re late,” My boss Chris shouted from the bar as I pushed my way through the front door of my cafe. He had a stern look on his face and his arms were crossed. Is he mad at me or looking for an excuse to flex his muscles in his tight white t-shirt? I can’t tell.
“Yeah I’m so sorry I overslept my alarm, and I missed the first streetcar getting here,” I responded.
“Are you joking? That shit is too good to be true. Don’t you live like 20 minutes away from here? The point is you were late and you didn’t call the store. What the fuck is up with that?” Chris snapped back.
“Oh, um I didn’t think to call the store I didn’t know I was supposed to. I’m sorry Chris,” I looked down and dropped my arms. Now I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. Did I actually fuck up?
“Next time call the store when you’re late don’t be an asshole and leave everyone else hanging. If you do I’ll fire you,” He started to chuckle as he walked past me. “Put your shit down and get the hell out here. I want to go for a smoke break.”
“Yes sir!” I shouted back and ran downstairs. I do not want to make him anymore mad today.
I rushed down the tiny crooked steps and turned the corner to the change rooms. The ceilings are always lower in Toronto shop basements and ours is no different. Our ceiling is about 5′9″ on a good day, and I always forget that. I threw my bag onto the corner of the bench, grabbed my apron and shoes from my cubby, and flew upstairs tying my apron as I travelled.
“Hi, sorry again for being late, but did you see them setting up for that installation next to the park on the east side near those townhouses? I saw the windows of an old building were out and there was water gushing from the side of the building. I wonder what that is about,” I tapped Chris’s hunched back as he stood distracted by the illuminated iPhone clutched in his hand. “Where do you want me on the floor?”
Startled he jumped, “Yeah um, can you take over for me at the counter. Ring people in and make their drinks while I go have a smoke. Rachel should be here soon and when she does just get her to help you out on the bar.”
“Ok sounds good. Can I change your music?”
“Are you going to change it to that gay shit again?”
“There is no such thing as gay music unless you are counting music made by gay people as gay music. Indie music is not ‘gay’ music.”
“Yeah, whatever just make sure you put back on the jazz when I get back. We’re trying to get rich white ladies in here, not those poor hipster kids you call your friends.”
“Rich white ladies? That’s why you’re staying open tonight? On the night most poor hipster kids will be roaming around exploring art in Toronto? Yo are you dumb?” I asked with a thick Toronto accent.
“Ok, you can drop the Toronto accent and just do your job. I’m going to go have a smoke,” He turned and pushed the door to the back and walked through. Thank God he’s gone. I ran to the music and changed it immediately to my indie music playlist. Grimes’ “Oblivion” came on. I listened intently to Grimes' hazy voice.
I never walk about after dark
It’s my point of view
I tossed my head back and forth to the music before I heard the front door open. It was a customer. I turned down the music.
“Hi! Welcome to Adoration Cafe!”
The tall thin man looked up at me and smiled before looking around the room, “Uh yeah do you guys have a bathroom in here?”
“Yes we do, it's in the back corner just past those tables,” I pointed towards the back. Is he going to go do drugs in the bathroom?
“Thanks dude.” He kept his hands in his black skinny jeans as he slinked towards the back.
It felt like he was in there forever. What did he do, clog the toilet? Even when I did that at the Tim Hortons in Chinatown I had the decency to tell them! No, who am I kidding I ran out of there with my tail between my legs!
After about 20 minutes he waltzed out with a lightness to his footing. My God, what did he take?
“Thanks again man really appreciate it. Cheers,” He nodded his head, this time reeking of weed with his hands in his back pockets instead of his front. He lifted the heels of his checkered Vans before he walked towards the front using his body to gently push open the door.
I followed his movements with my eyes. Once the door closed behind him I darted from behind the bar. Did that dude just smoke in our bathroom? There is so much space to smoke outside. It’s not even that cold out yet. I hope he didn’t smoke in the bathroom, I’m sure Chris will find some reason to be mad at me for that. I don’t know how but he’ll find a way.
I opened the door to a smokeless room. What? I scanned the room for evidence. The room didn’t smell of smoked weed but it had an odour to it. I looked around. Nothing left by the sink or behind the toilet. I looked in the garbage. Nothing but wads of toilet paper. I pulled down the changing table to find tiny flakes of dried green leaves sprinkle on the cream plastic surface. Bingo. I used my hands to scoop as much off the plastic table before I wet a piece of paper towel and patted the surface dry for any future children who need the changing table.
“What the hell are you doing?” I heard a voice coming from the doorway. It was Chris.
“Someone was in here and I think they just rolled a joint but forgot to clean up the evidence on their way out,” I explained.
“Well hurry the fuck up with that and get back to the bar it shouldn’t be left unattended. Honestly, who cares about what is left on the changing table?” He said in passing as he walked back towards the bar.
“Shouldn’t you care if you want rich white women to come to this cafe? Especially if they bring their kids?” I asked as I followed behind him.
“Fuck no, they can leave their kids at home. This cafe is for hot couples who want to hook up, young entrepreneurs, rich white women, and people who are actually talented from the arts scene and looking to make a name for themselves.” He clasped his hands together as he grinned.
“So you do care about the poor hipsters! I knew it,” I teased him. “Have you heard anything from Rachel?”
“No, I haven’t. She hasn’t called the store since I was gone?”
“No, she hasn’t.” I repeated him.
“Fuck. Did you girls plan this? This is bullshit. Give me that phone.” He extended his arm and gestured to the black landline. “I’m going to call this girl.”
“Um ok,” I handed over the wireless phone and walked away from him and towards the espresso machine. I’m just going to practice my latte art while it’s quiet.
“Bitch,” He muttered under his breath as he hung up the phone. “Rachel says she can’t come in because she forgot she had a shift so she made other plans. Does she know how a job works? I’m going to fire her tomorrow.”
“Are you supposed to say that to me?” I looked confused.
He ignored my question as he walked towards the back. “Okay well since that is happening I’m going to go call other people and see who can come in because there’s no way I’m fucking staying till close.”
“Does that mean I can keep my music on?” I called out to him before he left.
“Yeah, Sarah do whatever the hell you want I don’t care. Just don’t fucking leave the bar for dumb shit.”
“You got it sir!” I shouted back with a hint of exaggeration.
I waited at the bar anxious to help a customer as the sun set. I know it always gets so much darker this time of year yet somehow I am always unprepared for its arrival. It kind of feels similar to my period every month if I’m being honest.
I looked outside at the people running around the former epicentre of Toronto’s manufacturing industry. Now it was just a neighbourhood with hollowed-out factory buildings slowly being filled with generic businesses and quirky coffee shops like ours. The only difference was tonight it was filled with artists and curious onlookers.
“Excuse me, hi.” I heard a voice calling me. I turned my head to see a customer just out of my view. I jumped.
“Shit- Sorry I didn’t see you there! What can I get you?”
“I want a quad ristretto Americano with extra space,” He replied with a twinkle in his eye. I think I know what he’s doing.
“Oh, you need lots of space in there… for other stuff?” I sarcastically chimed back.
“Yes of course,” He looked at me with a frown of disdain. Okay, we won’t make any more jokes then.
“Is that everything for you?” He nodded while maintaining direct eye contact so I continued, “That will be 4.25 then.”
He handed me the exact change and I cleared the register. No tip eh? Rude. He walked immediately to the bar with his head in his phone. I took my time as I walked towards the espresso machine to make his drink. What’s this guy’s deal?
“So how’s it going? Are you seeing the sights at Nuit Blanche?” I asked.
He jerked his head up quickly with his eyebrows raised as if he didn’t expect me to interrupt his time scrolling through what looked like Facebook, “Um yeah I’m here with some friends, we wanted to see Brendan Ferandes’ sound and light show. It’s called Future Perfect. It’s a giant installation of shipping containers meant to address the trauma of migration, displacement and change.”
“Sick,” I nodded my head in excitement. “Well, you enjoy it man here’s your drink.”
“Thanks,” He smiled as he took the cup and walked out.
“Ah-hem!” I heard someone shout from the register. “We’re waiting!”
I turned to see two high school girls waiting impatiently by the cash. I could tell they were high school girls because their voices were shrill and they dressed inappropriately for the weather. I was like this in high school, only ten times hotter.
“Sorry guys!” I walked towards them taking my time. “What can I get you two?”
“What do you have that tastes the least like coffee?” High school girls also ask dumb questions like this. Not to be rude, I’m just making an observation.
“I would say a latte is probably best.”
“Wait! Do you have that hot chocolate coffee thing?” The shorter girl asked.
“You mean a mocha?” I looked at her confused while slightly annoyed. “Yes, we have those.”
“Can I get one of those and also one of those brownies with the salt on it?” She jabbed her dirty finger into the glass of the display case. I winced, I hate when customers do that.
“Yes, is there anything else?” I asked.
“Yeah um can you hurry the fuck up?” A voice shouted behind them. Who was that? I looked up to see a lineup had started and trailed all the way out the door. My heart skipped a beat. How did that happen so quickly? I was only talking to these girls for a minute.
“Yes...of course…” I spoke softly as I slowly stepped towards the back door. “Just one second!”
I ran to the back shouting at the top of my lungs.
“Chris you better get your ass up here we have a lineup out the door I can’t help everyone by myself I will die!”
“Yeah alright, Sarah I will be up in one second. Just go back out there!” He hollered from the office.
Go back out there? Easy for him to say! He will flip when he sees how many people there are. God, I hope I survive this. I took a deep breath and stepped behind the bar. I managed to serve a good portion of the line by myself before Chris came to help out, typical boss behaviour.
“Go stay on the bar. I will take the orders at cash, I’m great with the ladies,” Chris put his hand on my shoulder before he assumed his role at the register.
“Hey, um you do know there are dudes in that line too!” I walked towards the bar and proceeded to foam milk like it was no one’s business.
We cleared the line with minimal complaints. I think everyone was too high on drugs to really notice how long they were standing in line. Besides Nuit Blanche is mostly line-ups anyway so it probably didn’t feel that different for most people.
Before we knew it we cleared the line. All 40 unexpected guests in under an hour with only two people. I’m pretty proud of us.
“That was great! Man, I never thought we were going to make it through all of those people.” I let out a sigh as I walked towards Chris at the front.
“Yeah it’s a fucking miracle,” Chris pipped back as he pulled out his phone. “Listen Sarah, I was able to get Imogen to come in and close. She’s doing us a huge solid because she never works on the weekend so make sure you are really good.”
“I’m not 12 Chris, I can ‘behave’ for her. I’ve worked with her before”
I heard the click of the door open.
“Imogen! So glad you’re here. We were just talking about you. Thanks again man for helping us out.”
“Did you seriously think you could handle closing the store on Nuit Blanche with just two people working? The entire night? Are you joking Chris?”
“Listen I didn’t think those hippie freaks would all come out in droves for espresso alright. If you want another person to close the store with you, be my guest. Good luck trying to find someone on such short notice.”
“I have more pull than you do. I’m going to put my stuff down and start making some calls. Most likely it will be Jess who comes in,” She sauntered towards the door.
Oh Jess cool, I’ve worked with her before.
Chris kept his eyes glued to his phone before he looked up to respond to Imogen, “Alright well since you girls have this handled I’m going to get the hell out of here.”
Chris grabbed his leather jacket from underneath the counter before he tossed it over his shoulder. I stood stunned as they both exited at the same time from opposite ends of the room.
I guess they just expect me to stay on the floor by myself indefinitely. Without a break too. Cool thanks guys, great teamwork we have here.
“I guess it will just be me for the next little while,” I muttered to myself.
“No I’m still here and I want a refill,” A bald older man stood over the counter with a ceramic mug in his hand. It was our laptop regular Bob. I always forget about Bob in the back.
“Nice to see you too Bob,” I sighed as I took his cup and walked towards the bar to make him another drink.
