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I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

I gotta say, my massage biz taught me secrets. I know which corners calm the mind. That tiny back street near Spadina is my fav, hella chill, even with crazy potholes. Its vibe is raw, imperfect, like me after twenty massages a day (haha!).

How to observe the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation in Toronto