Story/Poem text

“There goes the neighborhood,” said Len as we strolled out the building from another
hellish team meeting.
“What you mean?”
“It’s officially arrived once the joggers are here,” he said, pointing to the gangly
man running on the spot, waiting for the Parliament Street traffic lights to change.
“Ah.” I’d heard this speech before.
“For real.” He insisted. “Sure there were ‘relocation’ notices, and the new pretty
buildings went up. But damn, it begins with the joggers. Joggers, then there will be chocolate lab
dog walkers and skimmed, non-fat, vanilla bean caffeine intake spots, and gourmet crap.” He lit
a cigarette.
“Mmm, I do like a good vanilla bean latte,” I sighed
“Me too, but focus woman I’m ranting.”
“Right,” I smiled lighting my smoke. “And fancy strollers,” I added.
“What?”
“There will be fancy strollers. Like Parkdale.”
“Exactly, we’re going be Parkdale. Hamid’s,” he said, pointing across the street, is going
to become ‘authetic’ Somali food and have line ups, and Kabul farms is going to turn into a pub
with Sunday karaoke nights recommended by Now Magazine.”
“Yeah,” I sigh. “We knew it was coming. How was your date last night?” I ask.
“Stood up.”
“Oh no. Bastard!”
“I know. He called with some excuse about getting caught up at work or something….
You know I had my first kiss in the building where that Sobeys is now. My neighbor.”
“Dirtyyyy”
“Not at all. I was terrified I think I run away after.”
“You gonna see him again?” I asked
“I haven’t talked to him in years.”
“No, your bastard date?”
“Nah, I waited in the pub for an hour before he called.”
“Dude.”
“I know…..oh well. Back to work. I have another meeting.”

I take a deep breath and stub my cigarette out. “Hey Len, there goes another jogger,” I say as we
head into the building.