Priorities – 15/01/2018

Winter grilling in a skin tight speedo should be against the law. Yet there was my neighbour, putting kebabs on the barbeque in his driveway in the depths of an Ottawa winter, wearing nothing but a bright red speedo.  Two quick pieces of context.

First, Ottawa is really, really cold in the winter. Not exactly speedo weather.

Second, my neighbor was a heroin dealer. People came and went from his place at all hours of the day and night, often leaving with small paper bags. He was scraggly and greasy and rail thin. He only dressed in black. But he was a very friendly neighbor. He would give a big wave and smile every time we passed his house. He seemed happy in his work.

As I drew nearer on my walk home, I saw with relief that he had put on a scarf. Then the scarf moved. To my horror I realized that it was actually a large snake, presumably a pet, draped around his neck. Naturally, I concluded that this entire escapade was a result of heroin use. There is no other explanation.

As I passed the end of his driveway, true to form he turned to give me a big smile and wave. His pasty-white, Canadian winter body was positively translucent against the backdrop of snow. And I got a front row seat to the full glory of the speedo. Normally, cold makes things shrink. But not always.

As I returned his wave, my eyes locked on one final detail: my heroin-using, winter-grilling, snake-wearing, speedo-bursting neighbour also had a nicotine patch affixed to his shoulder. He was trying to quit cigarettes. Because those things will kill you. Unlike heroin. Or snakes. Or being out in a Canadian winter in a bathing suit.

When I got into our house, I called my wife over to the window. This is a transcript of her response as she peered across the street to the scene of the crime:

“Good Lord, is he wearing a….”

“What the hell is that around his neck? Is that a….”

“And what is…what is…Are you KIDDING me?”

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