(A parking sign on Dundas West, undoubtedly trampled to death by pedestrians…)
Each and every holiday weekend that I spend here in Toronto makes me ever more grateful that I don’t work a nine-to-five job, and that I don’t have to drive, eat or shop when the overwhelming majority of the city’s population does the same. And yet yesterday brought with it such a pleasant spring afternoon that I purposely set out to shop the crowded streets of both Chinatown and Kensington Market.
After half a block of Augusta Avenue I was ready to start throwing blind punches at anyone within arm’s length—I tallied no less than five separate occurrences where a group of people walking directly in front of me would spontaneously decide to stop and have a chat about some stupid thing in the middle of an already-congested sidewalk. This was in marked contrast to the hustle and bustle of my local Chinese supermarket, where people, shopping carts and even rolling skids of raw produce all threatened to run me over as I navigated the narrow aisles quick as I could.
At least these Chinatown shoppers moved with a purpose, and when all is said and done I think I’d rather endure their pushing and shoving than the oblivious meanderings of Kensington elite…
Andrew Currie 