A post from basil.CA’s third year:
27 February 04: On Tuesdays and Fridays I have a long commute from the West End of Vancouver to the pastoral town of Langley, where I teach university part-time. I pick up my first bus at 5:42AM, switch to the Skytrain downtown, then zip off to Langley from the Surrey Station in a bus that’s getting less and less quiet. With the sun rising earlier, I’m enjoying the trip more, listening in to conversations. Tuesday:
“My son said ‘motherfucker’ yesterday. He’s three years old! Monique told me I should put hot sauce on his tongue every time he swears.”
“Won’t work,” said a cherubic toughie whose lips held an unlit cigarette for the entire trip. “I tried it once, and the next day I came into the kitchen and my little girl was drinking hot sauce from the fucking bottle. It’s beyond hope. Last week we’re in the car and we hear a siren, and she goes, ‘Shit! Cops!’ She’s still in diapers!”
basil.CA 
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