Rating: NNNNN
I just moved to this city a few weeks ago , having never lived here before. I know there are many great places to eat and hang out and lots of interesting people, but I’m still learning those ropes. That kind of knowledge takes time and some trial and error. I’ll probably get sick a few times and get my ass kicked a few times and get my heart broken a few times before I can make any expert observations on the way things work here.
But I learned about one great thing very quickly: you can find amazing junk on the streets, sidewalks and alleys. Heck, seems to me if you can dream it you’ll find it, and usually on the same day.
It’s like magic. I’ve found some good things in other cities, and certain places have specific weeks of the year that everyone knows as good pickin’ time. But based on conversations I’ve had with a few people, it’s a constant in Toronto.
I don’t understand the hows and whys of this wonderful phenomenon, and frankly, I’m not concerned. I’m satisfied to reap the benefits.
I came here with nothing (long story). Once I found an apartment, honest to god, it took only two days to fully furnish the place without paying a cent. As a matter of fact, I came into more fine couches than I can handle six in all, two of them leather! One may or may not be an authentic Chippendale!
Once I had the basics covered, I began building a list of more specific needs. My luck was so good, my catalogue of material lusts (written on found paper with found pen) became more of a wish list. I’ve found that I can even be choosy about details like size and colour in this wonderland of treasure.
Why shop anywhere else? Not only did I furnish my entire nest, including bathroom and kitchen, but I’ve amassed a swell art collection and a winter wardrobe!
I found winter boots, my size, still in the original box. I don’t think they’d ever been worn. I found a set of velvet paintings of sexy flamenco dancer ladies. I found a beautiful framed photograph of a young Claudia Cardinale. I found a bizarre toilet paper roll holder with a built-in ashtray (I don’t smoke, but it’s still awesome) and a slot on the top in which you can put a book!
I needed a TV stand of specific dimensions and hue of wood if it was going to be a perfect match for my living room, and, lo and behold, I found it. Just as I imagined it! I found all this stuff and lots more.
God bless you, Toronto! And all your beautiful crap! I blow you a thousand kisses.
Buck 65 is East Coast-bred hick-hop hero Richard Terfry.
