What was supposed to be a simple stop by at the Polish festival turned
into quite the full afternoon there. It
even carried well into the evening and, surprisingly enough, even the morning
too, when the afternoon hours of fun in the sun with my gal pal Polska B just
wasn’t sufficient time. I had gone there
right after church, to meet up with Polska B, so I showed up dressed up and
hungry.
Side note here, when am I never hungry?! Good point.
I’m convinced that since I’ve left Canada and been away, in those 11
years of me being MIA from all the festivities and holidays Canada started
taking steroids – everything seems so extra pumped up, so exaggerated in size
and intensity. This weekend’s Polish
festival was no exception to my point.
I was good with not indulging like crazy. I didn’t indulge at all really, well at least
not on typical Polish goodies. I could
have, would have and maybe should have but didn’t and I didn’t on account that
my favourite Polish bakery is now at Tim Horton’s coffee shop. It was like getting the wind knocked out of
me when I headed towards what used to be my favourite Polish bakery – a bakery
my parents and I used to eat paczki (Polish donuts), the bakery where
Snickers ate his first Polish food item.
I wanted to snap a picture there and send it to him, remind him of
summers past when it was him, me, my dad, and my mom all together. Now it’s just my dad and I and not the Polish
bakery isn’t there.
It was a rough reality check of how time changes things.
After returning home only to leave and head to System for training, I
then returned to the Polish festival for some of the night time fun with Polska
B. We had intended on hanging out at a
local pub favourite of Polska B’s but when the music got cranked to the max and
suddenly all (including staff) were well beyond one drink too many, we
bailed. Bailed and went to College
Street, to a bar that’s so far from being anything Polish or even
European. We went to a Japanese bar
where we both are familiar with the wait staff and management. A trip downtown to that place turned into
another visit to another place, this time it was me and two new friends. Polska B went home but I had met friends and
they lured me to go check out some live music.
I’m easily lured, it’s pretty bad, but I love live music and I love food
so despite me needing a bit of a pull to the live music performance I will
admit it was very easy for them to convince me to go out for something to eat
afterward.
My veggie omelette at 3:30 in the morning was accompanied by the
strangest of strange stories from the waiter who had served me my food. He told me how one of his customers had died
on him right at the next table to us; wild story. A earlier-than-early breakfast was then
followed a walk-and-talk escort home.
Got home at 5am.
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