Today I saw you with your flags on your cars, driving up and down our street and I braced myself for the next month of hell. No sleep. No backyard dinner parties. No peace.
The middle eastern guy at the magazine shop told me: At least we have many cultures in our city. I used to live in London Ontario. Bo-Ring.
So maybe having my neighbourhood turn into a flag-waving, ear-splitting cacophony of nationalistic fervour is the price I pay for living in an interesting place?
I just wish it was in the winter when I could keep the windows closed.
