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Monday, July 18, 2005

K-OS and A Walk To Remember

NO! Not the movie of the same name… I’m talking about our Friday night stroll home from Fionn McCools on the Esplanade. Okay, wait… I’m getting ahead of myself - as I so often do.

Friday night Vermont Girl (visiting), Greektown and I headed down to the Molson Amphitheatre for the K-OS show. Now as most of you know, Greektown and I have seen K-OS several times this year… including their first local show on the Joyful Rebellion Tour – the Opera House last fall. So it was somewhat surreal to go from that venue, an intimate space, to the huge expanse of the Molson Amphitheatre. But at the same time, pretty thrilling (even if we didn’t end up backstage this time… boo hiss).

So the show was really good – although I suspect that nothing will ever top the Kingston show. But what I found overdone in guitar solos Friday night was more than made up for in B-Boy dancers. There was even DANCE FIGHTING!! Nothing makes me happier than dance fighting! It was a great homecoming for our favorite emcee.

Post-show, we decided to head to Fionn McCools to meet up with 601, Sporty Spice and the gang (since clearly guitar dude still hates me and we were not getting invited to hang with the band… ah, bitter?). We stuck around for a beer with the boys, before calling it a night and heading home. As we were walking along Front Street to Union Station, we come up to Front and Bay and were just getting ready to cross the street (we had the walk sign), we hear a huge BANG!

A shiny, white Lincoln Towncar smashes into the back of an older Ford Escort so hard that the Escort jumps ahead several feet and we see the passenger bring her hands to the back of her head. The dazed driver of the Escort gets out of his car and walks back to the Towncar, whose driver has lowered his window, but not deigned to get out of the car. We cross the street, but wonder aloud if we shouldn’t give our names and numbers as witnesses to the Escort driver. When the Towncar driver STAGGERS out of his car and tells the Escort driver that there’s no damage and refuses to give his insurance information… we head back over to the accident. We’re getting involved!

The back bumper of the Escort smashed in on the right hand side and the taillight is bulging out as well as the back panel. The Towncar’s license plate is bent in from the impact. The Towncar driver, a tiny, portly 60-ish white man with a strange accent (we couldn’t settle on a nationality), very Mr. Magoo, wearing Junior Soprano glasses, got out of his car and was belligerently refusing to exchange insurance info. He started to get back into his car and Greektown followed him, “Sir, Sir! You have to give him your insurance info! Sir!” The Tiny Towncar driver turns to Greektown and begins to argue with her… “There’s no damage!Vermont looks at him like he has three heads “Are you crazy? Have you looked at the car?” and begins pointing out the damage… Towncar driver turns to Greektown, yelling “You! You are clearly homeless! I give money to this community to support people like you (ah, WHAT?!?) and you will all go to jail!” (points wildly at us while struggling not to fall over – oh yeah – did I mention that Towncar is DRUNK??). “You will have cement bracelets on your feet!!” Now that’s a threat!

Meanwhille, the Escort driver is on his cell phone, calling the police as I offer useful commentary “Tell them he’s drunk! Tell them he’s threatening to leave the scene!Vermont, getting quite mad now, “Sir, you can’t leave the scene, the police are coming!” is now the focus of the Towncar driver’s rage as he turns to her, gives her the finger and raises two more, “One, two, three fingers, UP your bum!” “Tell me where you want it!” he bellows as he falls into his car, slams the door and speeds off, fishtailing up the street.

If only every Friday night was this eventful…

Posted by Brown Eyed Girl :: 12:41 PM :: 1 Comments:

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