We were standing on the sidewalk of West 4th, trying to figure out what to do next, our stomachs revolting for having been promised fried chicken only to have it frustratingly yanked from our metaphorical grasp. Suddenly from behind, the wires above the street started to thrum and sing, followed promptly by the distinctive crackle of trolley poles. My mind raced in a sharp moment of recognition and confusion, suddenly picturing the red and white of the TTC. A streetcar? In Vancouver?! Listening hard, I was half-expecting the inevitable rattle of the rails that come just before the streetcar passes. My heart dropped as an electric trolley bus hummed passed us, taking with it with my moment of dislocation. Despite my disappointment, I remained impressed; this was either a grand example of my quixotic sentimentality of all things Toronto, or the brain's remarkable ability to remember life's most random ephemera.
CONSUMED: West 4th, between Maple and Cypress; Vancouver
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