Life is uncertain - eat dessert first!

Warm night with a balmy breeze coming off of the river, the SkyTrain chuddering past on its elevated track below me down the hill. A train whistle sounds, and sure enough there's the low rumbling of one going by on the old freight tracks. No less than three helicopters are buzzing the city, chuffing rotors echoing off of the grimy brickwork. Tires shushing by on the level roads, squeaking by on the hilly ones. People everywhere, laughing, singing, dealing.

It's fun living in the city.

You know how when you want to say something to multiple people, you can do it in this form: "Thank you Sam, Bob." right?

Ever get a stutter when you try to do it? All of us have code names so that anybody who bothers to listen to our radio traffic doesn't have any idea where we are. Heard on the radio last night:

"Alpha Eleven, Alpha Eleven Alpha, your status please."

"Alpha Eleven all clear."

"Alpha Eleven Alpha all clear."

"Ten-four Alpha Eleven, Alpha Eleven Alpha Eleven Alpha Eleven Alpha Eleven Alpha."

He did it twice last night. :)

Also heard on the radio:

"Echo One to Echo One Alpha."

"Echo One Alpha here, go ahead."

"It looks like our resident skunk is active in your quarter, keep your eyes open."

"Ten-four, thank you Echo One."

Okay, I'm easily amused.

Last night, I got to watch the Romanian and the Hippie talking to each other. And it clarified both of them so much that I almost expected to see labels in forty-point Helvetica pop up above them.

The Romanian is really violent, at least in his thoughts. He plays lots of first person shooters, and he's the first person I've ever met that extends them into his real life. He'll say "Guy who cuts me off when I'm getting off of a bus? I want to grab his collar, extend my arm, and then (demonstrating his moves in real life) UNLOAD MY AK-47 INTO HIS HEAD! TCKA-TCKA-TCKA! TAKE THAT YOU MOTHERFUCKING MOTHERFUCKER! BURN IN HELL!"

Seems a bit excessive, even if you're in a pissy mood.

Hippie, meanwhile, is one of those who likes to talk about either himself or someone he knows who got hurt at some point, and then describe the long slow road to recovery (or dealing with it), and the way "the system" screws the poor unfortunate around.

"Yeah man, so I was on my bicycle and I got hit by a truck. Broke my spine, my foot in six places, left my teeth on the asphalt, had a huge crack in my skull, and broke my jaw in two places. So first they had to stitch ..."

This can go on for a while. I understand and I'm interested, but there's a point at which the minute-by-minute details of years of therapy have to be summed up, don't you think?

Polish Guy called me at about 0730 this morning, and asked how I was. Then, "Where are you?"

"Wait, where are you?"

"Coming in the front door."

"I'll be right there."

He came for his seat from his bike, which he left behind all those months ago when he left the site. So we talked a bit, I commented on his obviously fake tan, and he mentioned that his new car (last one was demolished by being hit by a truck in the winter) was practically totalled last week. He now preaches that "Chinese drivers just can't drive". Sigh. Looks like the Romanian has made a convert.

Also... he kept his magkey access card when he left the site. And guess what? It still works. Does that strike you as a bit of a security breach? He doesn't even work for that company anymore.

He could waltz in at literally any time to any of the seven buildings on the site, use his card, and take whatever he wants.

And you thought I was kidding when I said that security is a screwed up business. :P

And on the way home, at the SkyTrain station near work, there's a poster up. It's for travel, but I just can't help but giggle when I read the slogan.

"Glorious Greece in you!"