Monday Screw (Friday Edition)

That Time On The Street Car

So usually we'd do The Monday Screw on, you know, Monday. But drastic times call for drastic measures. You see, despite what should have been a purely celebratory post, some chump-sac named Mike Tonner decided to take it upon himself to foul up the mood and call me out for not posting enough hilarious stories and tall tales like my esteemed colleague Eric Wendy Grimes. Who is Mike Tonner? Well according to Google, he's a fucking nobody! But we here at The Gritz take our jobs seriously, and any time a fan has comments or concerns, we like to either eradicate the fan or deal with the comments /concerns swiftly. And since I can't find where this Tonner douchtard lives, I guess I'll just have to post a little ditty that could well also be a Monday Screw, except it technically spilled over into Tuesday.

---

On Monday, the 19th of January I was sitting in my office, working diligently on a project surrounding the 175th Anniversary of the Founding of Toronto (look it up! It's this March the 6th!) when an e-mail came in. It was from the University College of London. Exactly 4 days prior, I had completed and submitted my applications to 5 law schools in the UK because (a) they were good schools and (b) I had spent too much of my first year of university looking down at an empty bottle rather than at an open book to ever have my GPA recover. So the UK was my best chance for further education. The e-mail was concise and comprehensive:

Dear Mr. Kitz,

We were delighted to received you application to the Faculty of Law at UCL. We have noticed, however, an irregularity in your application. As you know, all students are expected to write their LNAT and we have noticed that your LNAT score has not been attached to your application. Please remedy this situation as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Brett

I responded:

Dear Brett,

I was unaware that the LNAT was a required test for my application to the Faculty of Law at UCL. However, I am writing my LSATs, the North American equivalent to the LNAT on February 6th. As this is in only 15 days away, and as I am unaware of any LNAT testing centre in Toronto, would these results be acceptable rather than an LNAT score.

All the very best,

Alex Kitz

Response, not 20 minutes later:

Dear Alex,

No, your LSAT score will not be an acceptable substitute. We require all applicants to write their LNAT. I have attached for you, however, a list of locations near your address that hold LNAT testing.

Brett

Response:

Dear Brett,

Thank you so much for this list of testing centres. There is one only an hour or two by public transportation from my house which I should be able to access. When is the deadline for the test to be taken?

Alex

Response:

Dear Alex,

The deadline for the exam to be sat is the 20th of January.

Brett

Gulp

Alright, so I'd never heard of this test till now (it's 2 PM, Monday afternoon) and I had exactly 21 hours to learn about it, write it and submit it. Very fortunately I had helpful friends. I texted one, Kent Plummer, who happens to work out near the airport and asked for a lift. He obliged. So after a restless night and a quick glance over the single practice test offered online he drove me out to The Nordic College out at Islington and Dixon Road. 

College would be a stretch... You know that scene in Boiler Room when Ribisi sees their phone bank for the first time and it's just a shell of an office with hundreds of phones laying on the floor? Think even more ghetto. This place wouldn't have passed mustard as a street meat stand let alone a place to take an internationally accredited test. But here I was. 8:30 AM. In the middle of nowhere. It was cold and there were wolves after me. So I took a look in the mirror and took a second to compose myself. "You're a tiger. You're mommy's big boy! You can do anything. See what you want and take it!"

That morning I was not mommy's big boy. To be fair, halfway through the essay section of the test, the computer just shut down. By the time it was back on, they had re-calibrated the clock so I hadn't technically lost any time, but you'd better believe I'd lost my rhythm. I finished my essay 150 words short of their preferred 700 words and had accidentally written a paragraph or two on another question which may have voided both efforts. No matter how you cut it, it wasn't good. The test, one that was supposed to be rudimentary compared with the LSAT - an exam I had been studying industriously for - had absolutely kicked my ass. In a blur I walked out of the building, cursing myself under my breath, completely humiliated.

Of course, as soon as I walked out, my bus flew past the stop. It was -15 but felt like -25. I hadn't worn boots, as I can't concentrate when I wear bulky footwear, so my feet were freezing and I hadn't eating since 7 AM, so I was starving. A full 20 minutes later, another bus finally came. I got on and endured the 20 minute ride down to Bloor. Once there, I transferred to the subway and began the long slough back. Another 20, maybe 25 minutes on the subway, I finally reached the Spadina station when I could transfer onto a streetcar down to my office. My phone buzzed with an e-mail, "Alex - I can't believe you're missing the inauguration!! I hope you're catching it somewhere. It's really amazing!"

A brief, side note: I had worked for Obama in Florida. More hours, blood, sweat and tears than I can possible describe were dedicated to that campaign. It was one of the most important experiences of my life, and I was well aware that I was missing an important moment in world history to be on a subway back to the office.

Hungry and tired, bitter to be stuck on the TTC and even more bitter to have just flunked an important test, I felt a wave of relief wash over me as my street car pulled to a stop in the station; the feeling that a long and brutal morning was over crept into me.

I got on the busy streetcar and actually saw an available seat beside an attractive young Asian girl who was sitting in the aisle. I walked over and hovered above her for a moment, hoping she would notice me and move over to the window so I could have the seat. She didn't. I coughed loudly and when she looked up I asked in my most pleasant voice whether I could sit down. "Of course" she said but instead of moving over, she swung her legs around to let me weasel into the seat. Well, a seat is a seat, isn't it? So I grabbed my bag with my left arm to make sure I didn't knock anyone in the head with it and grabbed the bar with my right hand to steady myself as I attempted to vault over this girl.

But just as I was reaching for the bar, the streetcar lurched forward and falling with it, I stuck the girl right in the eye with my thumb.

WHAM!! Right with the pointy end of my thumb. She SCREAMED!! "Aiiieeee!!" and threw her armful of files straight up in the air, clutching her face. "You poked me!! Right in the eye with your nail!!"

"I know! Oh, my goodness, I know, I'm SO sorry! I'm SO sorry. Are you alright? Are you okay? Can you see? Do you need us to stop? Do you need medical attention?"

"NO! Just sit down!"

"Sit down!? I - I can't sit down with you, I just jabbed you in the eye with the entire weight of my body! I feel terrible, I can't possibly take that seat!"

"SIT DOWN!!"

"Alright, alright" and so I gathered up the spray of files and again steadied myself, this time successfully straddling over her into the window seat. I sat there, silent looking straight ahead, but well aware that she was whimpering in the seat next to me. As if she had been expecting to have her cornea scratched, she pulled from her bag eye drop bottle after hand-sanitizer after mirror after cotton ball and began applying all her medical skills to her - presumably permanently - damaged eyeball. All the while I just sat quietly and stared ahead, trying to avoid both eye (singular) contact from her and from the other 100 chinese people on the streetcar who were looking at me like I had committed a hate crime.

Of course, once in the window seat, there was NO WAY I was going to climb over her to get out. I'd just nearly blinded her! So I sat patiently, periodically casting cautious glances over to see if she'd stopped crying (she hadn't). We reached my stop, and with no movement on her side, I continued to sit quietly. Another stop past my office. Still no movement. Finally, she gets up to leave, but again I can't bring myself to do the same - as it trying to justify why she wouldn't move over  in the first place, I stay another full stop. By the time I get off I'm practically down at Lakeshore. 

I exit the streetcar, beaten. Defeated. Whatever mirrors I'd broken in my past had been saving up for a day like this. I trudged all the way back to the office, almost 10 minutes, only 5 minutes less than it would have taken me to walk from the Bloor subway station, and swore I'd never take the TTC ever again.