Sometimes it’s hard to get out of critic mode.
It’s an hour before our movie, and my friend and I are looking for a cafe. Preferably a place that’s comfortable, clean, quiet and doesn’t shove its style and atmosphere down our throats along with its caffeinated beverages.
Easier said than done.
In the past, we’ve suffered through baristas too cool to tell us our orders were ready. And we’ve sat on sofas so soiled the cushions looked like they were made of recycled coffee filters.
“Tim Hortons?” I suggest.
“Too dull. Second Cup?”
“Ugh. Bad lighting.”
We rule out the Starbucks that used to be a beautiful bookstore – too depressing – but then he finally mentions the cafe nestled in the chain bookstore near our movie theatre. He’s never been, and it’ll be convenient.
I roll my eyes.
“Oh god, the people are awful,” I say. “So pretentious. Pseudo-intellectual CBC listener types who sit there all day writing that novel they’ve been working on for a decade, while they really just want to read tacky magazines.”
He laughs, but when we finally arrive, he understands what I mean. The clientele is so obnoxious, we decide to choose the three most annoying people to see if we come up with the same ones.
It turns out we’re on the same wavelength. Our number-one annoying person is the bulldog-looking woman who’s muttering to herself in a corner and looks like she used to organize union meetings back in the 1930s.
The number-two annoying person is a guy we dub “Satanic Steve Paikin,” who looks like a nasty version of the TVO host. He’s monitored us ever since we entered and, huddled over his netbook, looks like a conspiracy freak.
We’re split on number three, but mine is a guy who resembles the actor Seth Rogen and is currently boring the crap out of his date with his pronouncements. What an asshole.
We finish our drinks and get up to leave. When we’re almost out the store, there’s a noise behind us. What now?
We swing around to see Satanic Steve barrelling toward us.
“Excuse me,” he says, out of breath. “Sorry, but I think this is yours.” He attempts a smile and holds the knapsack my friend had recklessly left slung over his chair.
“Wow,” we both say afterwards, after thanking him. We don’t speak for a while, but we’re thinking the same thing. Most annoying people? Us.
glenns@nowtoronto.com | twitter.com/glennsumi
