Faithful readers know the importance that the Equinox Gym on West Georgia Street played in my life during this past year. So it came as a surprise to everyone (including the staff at the gym) that I gave the required thirty day notice to qui. t The reasons were explained in the July 13,2018 blog. So July 31, 2018 is my last day but actually Friday was the last day. I received a cancellation of appointment notice from Sir Richard via email late on Friday which occasioned the following text.
Me: I am being serious. That was SO sweet of you to cancel our Monday session. It was SO hard for me to say good bye to everyone – I could never come back and do it all again on Monday. It was unspoken but you knew. Other thought could be that you said: “Phew I am free of that woman” Three versions: mine, yours, the truth. Hahahahahaha
Hottie: Hahahahaha Yours is the closest to the truth.
Me: That was not very helpful. (private sentence) Go to sleep, it is past your bedtime, son.
Hottie and I had a conversation on the last day about there being three versions of every story that concerned the two of us. The three being: my version, his version and the truth. I was picking up that thread in my text to him.
I left the gym on Friday with a heavy heart. Next stopped off at the Fortis building to pick up my cleaning, then ran into Penelope and Chloe on West Georgia, I walked down Thurlow to Robson. I felt an enormous sense of relief – huge.
Me: I never have to come back to this block again. Never.!
Alter Ego: You did not realize the strength the sheer will it took to come back to this block – week after week after week.
Me: No! It feels like I just got out of jail.
Just to clarify I have never been in jail, except to work in one or two. Now I did get a great deal from the Equinox – a great relationship with Sir Richard, the mutual admiration society formed between the staff and yours truly and, my fitness. Do not forget that there was a movement afoot to call it Alexis’Equinox. I have not lost touch with those positive feelings. I also know that I can return penalty free within ninety days. But I do not HAVE TO. I can just say that I am not tough enough to do it and not loose respect for myself. I understand, in part, my aversion to the block on West Georgia that contains the Trump International Hotel and Tower, and perhaps, since I can distance myself further, I will understand more. The word for the day is aversion, a noun:
a strong dislike or disinclination: he had a deep-seated aversion to most forms of exercise.
• someone or something that arouses strong feelings of dislike.
However, despite my sadness, Saturday dawned and it was a good, if not an absolutely great day. I accidentally found The Parlour, a great restaurant in Yaletown where i had the best brunch. I will include a funny picture I took there accompanied by a hilarious caption. Then a retreat to my air conditioned apartment to await my five o’clock dinner reservation at Nordstrom’s Bistro Verde. What a treat I had in store for me. The concierge escorted me to the restaurant – arm in arm we went up the escalators. We had met months before when I went to complain about my Nordstrom’s coat. (That was a happy ending, it was me, not the coat). Then I was ushered to a wonderful table that overlooked VAG. I had no idea such a place existed – a quiet, peaceful place overlooking the noise and confusion of Robson Square. Then W.W. appeared (Wonderful Waitress). I looked at the drink menu and found that I could have a Billionaire. I choked in delight, ordered one and did an Instagram video. It was the greatest drink EVER and its funny name. I once knew a billionaire – a multibillionaire (ten apparently). I ordered another but WW and I decided that having ten might be symbolic but probably NOT a good idea. I laugh as I write because it is all so improbable as I was born in Saskatchewan and I am 75. Then I ordered food and had the ribs with Okanagan peach sauce and mashed potatoes. Sheer heaven. But the joy did not stop there because along came the boss, whose nickname shall be NR (I cannot wait to tell him how I came to his nickname and what it means). He sat down and we talked and talked and agreed on so many things. He has nothing to do with his family either and he thinks that Hawksworth and the Nightingale Restaurants are disappointments. We have our differences – he has a wonderful wife. I do not have a wonderful wife nor a husband, (although Lord knows I tried) I had the Apple Crisp for dessert, taking some home for breakfast. I came down the escalators on my very own but talked to the two concierges on the way out. I walked back to my air conditioned apartment and exchanged Instagrams with a number of people and then I went to bed early.
But I did have an unpleasant conversation with a guy at the bar at The Parlour. He was talking about the superiority of the Canadian health system which is simply not factual at all particularly in this city as it is impossible to get a general practitioner who is the gate keeper to all care. He said:
He: My mother died of cancer and I did not have to pay a cent!
Me: Well, but she died, didn’t she? With better medical care perhaps she would not have.
He: Good bye. I am not going to talk to you anymore! Have a good day!
I am not fond of stupidity and people who do not know the difference between fact and opinion. I was happy the conversation was terminated. There was no way he was going to listen to me – after all I am a little old lady. I did not give him a blog card – by the way.
Another glorious surprise. I was at my favorite RBC branch waiting in line. A handsome man was behind me and said something about enjoying my smile yet again.
He: You do not remember me, do you?
Me: No, I am sorry. I do not!
He: I met you at the Trump when you stayed there.
Me: Oh my goodness yes! Can I give you a hug?
Me: I am not there any more and I am doing very well.
He: I know. I read your blog.
I almost died. It is so weird all of this. I do know that people read me – I am so poor at math I did not realize until yesterday that about 400 people a day read alexismcbride.com. But it totally boggles my mind. Totally.
Onward with this day, Sunday. I urgently require groceries. The garbage needs taking out – where are husbands when you really need them???? But tonight is British mystery evening on the tele. Heaven, I am in heaven. Well, not quite but on the 17th floor. Hahahahaha
Two photos. One of me at the Parlour where I speak of the glories of the food and the service but complain of the technology on Instagram. Then the one of half of a Billionaire where I also say on Instagram that another is coming but not 10 – due to multibillionaire’s (in my life briefly) collection – 10 billion apparently. It would be symbolic but excessive, as determined by WW and yours truly. dnefwmmcb