(yesterday) Left the hotel this morning and one of the tires was a little low, so I thought, man let’s get some McDonald’s and then think about the tire. After doing that (well worth it) I spent half an hour looking for an air pump. I filled up and, as Murphy’s Law would predict, I dislodged whatever was in there and the thing started hissing like a gay guy starting to say ‘sassy.’ Luckily (in non-Murphy fashion) I was right across the street from a repair shop. I think it was either called Dillon’s Tire or Cave of the Man-Child. One of those. They were the nicest people around and were super quick. I’m pretty sure the young guy in question was around 19, but his belt buckle said [MACK] and he apparently said “I can fix that for ya,” but I swear it was “I must break you.”
The border crossing back into Canada was uneventful. “Come on in illegal aliens, you’ll die of boredom before Lethbridge anyway.” I went straight to Tim Horton’s and got lost. I must be home.
Made it to DC’s apartment around 4pm and went out for some Alberta Beef. Naturally I had the chicken club (there wasn’t actually beef on the menu, I’m not that crazy). Relaxing night ensued.
(today) DC and his cat, Buddy Guy, brought some breakfast to the apartment (I honestly owe this guy my next paycheck) then we went guitar shopping and to a local butcher for lunch. Also, I swear this is platonic. The ribs were so good that we went back later to buy steaks for dinner (and a grill, no kidding). There’s so much awesome beef around here I feel like I’m at Hugh Heifer’s Mansion.
We’re headed to Lake Louise in the a.m. for some boarding; praying for some powder this time. I hope I didn’t botch that semi-colon.
Still no luck on the housing front, but I’m following a few leads. No rush though, despite my Geddy Lee hair.