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      …I sat in the back of the taxi cab with enough Rosé in my veins to make the day of your average alcoholic who felt they were too classy for hard liquor and stuck to Rosé. The magazine I was employed with at the time had been paying for everything during my journalistic stay in this city so I was more than abusive with the prepaid credit cards and stacks of cash they threw my way. The cab driver opened up to me and as I listened to him ramble on with his thoughts on everything from everyday life to conflicts in the middle east, I got a clear sense of who he was through the cloudy veil of my drunkenness. He was a firm believer in a higher power, I can’t narrow down his religion but it seemed to be some form of Christianity. He believed that God was always there for him, a belief that may seem innocent until you realize the high and false expectations it provided for people like this cabbie. He believed that he was numero uno in God’s eyes, that God would always help him, that it was God’s eternal responsibility to be loving no matter. I could never wrap my head around someone believing that a higher power must take care of their own creations for the sake of morality. Sure a parent’s instinct will lead them towards caring for their child but when you have billions among billions of creations who are all living free because of you and only you, you must want them to do things for themselves every now and then. I always thought that we stick to praising and leave it at that, but some people need more to be able to sincerely say thank you. Despite his firm beliefs, he freely threw God’s name around in vain; phrases like, “For Christ’s sake” and “What in God’s name” seemed to roll off his tongue as easy as, “Hello” and “Goodbye”.


     We arrived at The Peninsula Hotel and I paid the cabbie with a 20 dollar bill which amounted to a 7 dollar tip being how the ride only cost me 13 dollars in total. Having previously worked a tip-paying job in my early years, I’d always been more than generous with tipping, even if the magazine wasn’t paying for it all I still would’ve gave him something extra.

     The hotel was gorgeous, unlike anything I’d ever seen but I was much too out of it to really experience the whole glamour of it all in the moment. I wobbled my way into the elevator and after examining my key card the elevator operator then dropped me off at the Peninsula Suite. I stumbled past the Brazilian cherry wood flooring and Murano glass chandeliers to admire the beautiful view across Fifth Avenue. Golden drapes formed along the neighboring windows of the room, a grand piano sat to my left and a 5 piece set of furniture surrounded a glass table in the middle of the living room I was in. Gorgeous art was installed all around me and adjacent to this living room was an office that’d be perfect for writing the Great American Novel along with catching the latest game of football. It was a lot to take in and I had no more to give out so I fell back onto the King size bed, clothes and all, and let the deep sleep take over like a pleasant tide covering a calm sandy beach…

Pretty soon, I’m going to travel outside of my home province for the first time ever. That’s kind of a big picture to paint if you ask me.