365: day twelve
I was going to help Howler bodypaint at the Workless Party Party tonight, but the Scotia Bank called me with an evening shift, and even minimum wage is better than nothing, so I missed that colourful fun and went after work instead. By the time I arrived, it was eleven and the main room had already transformed from a gymnasium into a sauna made of sweat. There were friends there, but I wasn’t comfortable at the party. I had a much better time after when a group of us, (Liam, two of his friends, a Michael and girl I was never introduced to, Burrow, Jonathan, Howler, and I), went to wait for food at the Naam.
(Their poor service is legendary. At three a.m., they are good because they are open. A particularly zen restaurant, one goes there not expecting to eat, but to wait).
That was my favourite part, just everyone sitting around the table being irrepressibly clever.