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The night Gentleman-hood might have lost a Believer.

‘She tried to make you feel guilty?’ I asked my friend Alex.
He nodded. ‘Wow, how do you feel about it?’ I could tell it was bothering him.
‘I assume that you’re not talking anymore?’
He nodded again.
It was peculiar –I had to admit it— but funny. In a horrible sort of way funny.

Okay, so here is what happened:

My friend goes to a birthday party of an old female friend at this place on Queen St. West called…well, let’s keep the actual name out, as you never know who might one day be reading this.

The birthday party was going well as pints, martinis, cigarettes and pictures were getting drunk, smoked and taken. Everyone was smiling and communal. It sounded like a pretty good party to me. Soon, after a few drinks everyone was everyone’s good old friend and it is normally then when some men, after having just a bit of ‘liquid-courage’ will approach the one girl in the party that might have caught their eye.

‘So, how do you know Suzanne?’ was his opening question to the cute blonde who was smiling with a welcoming smile reserved for only close friends or those who we instinctually find sexually appealing. There was obviously some attraction happening there. ‘And then what happened?’

They talked, laughed and flirted themselves from the rest of the pack and into a quiet corner of the lounge. He found out about her job, aspirations and even about her pet dog Mildred. It sounded promising.

Alex although not shy with women in the least, barely ever shares any info about his private life, even to me and I have known the guy forever. This girl, let’s call her Lisa, had really made an impression on him.

So it was no surprise when the party finally died down and everybody was outside wondering what to do with the rest of the night. They both agreed to take their leave together.

‘I was going east and so was she, so I thought me and Lisa could walk until we went our separate ways.’ That’s nice, walk with her and get to know her better I thought. We have all been there, you meet someone you get along so well you find yourself wishing for the night not to end. ‘It felt really good. At one point she said her hands were cold and put her right hand in my coat pocket along with mine. We were holding hands and hoping it no one would notice our connection. We said good-bye to the few smokers who were still deciding where to go and started walking.’

This was getting more interesting by the minute. ‘Aha, go on…and then?’

After walking for about twenty minutes, she decided that it was time to let me know she was married and her husband was waiting at home.

‘Just like that?!’
‘Just like that…’
‘Like that?’
‘Aha.’
‘Oh. That sucks. What did you do?
‘Aside feeling foolish and weird, well, nothing…I wasn’t sure what to do.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘We kept on walking.’
‘Ah. Not much talking then, eh?’
‘No.’
‘Unless you are into that sort of thing…’
‘Shut up.’

So kept on walking they did until the proverbial fork on the road came. Knowing Alex, I am sure he was happy when that happened –I mean— who wouldn’t? But the night wasn’t quite over yet. Lisa then asked since it was so late if he could be kind enough to walk her home, eight blocks away.

Which leads us back to what was bothering Alex. He felt bad for leaving a woman in the middle of the city at 3:00am even if she was married. I mean, technically that didn’t change the fact that he was leaving her in a deserted street. But what would happen if he walked her with her husband at home? Can you imagine it?
Ouch!

What did he do? You ask?
He refused. He declined and told her that he would only walk her if she needed to, but that she could now easily take a taxi. She wasn’t to far from home and it would avoid the possible serious consequences of the mixture of two men and a very flirtatious wife.
She in turn was said a cold ‘Fine!” and walked in separate directions.

But that wasn’t the end of it. A few days later…Alex told he had spoken with Suzanne and confirmed that Lisa was in fact married. He also told me he spoken with Lisa, as it turns out she had given him her business card too. In their short conversation she called him as being less than a gentleman and a looser for leaving her. I begged Alex to tell me if he reminded Lisa she had kept the fact that she was married until the very end. That would have been what I would call a counter-check, but no, our boy failed to do so. She also said that she was going to tell all her friends –Suzanne included— of his ‘fake’ behaviour towards women and then hanged up. Ah, the drama of today’s battle of the sexes.

Do I believe this whole story? Hey, why not? It sounds too good to be made up. All the facts came from the horse’s mouth, but of course for the sake off all involved I did change the names as in the end it takes nothing from it all. Also I did ask for permission to post this, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t ask first?

In the end, what could I do but to tell my Alex that everything will work out? Will this change his ways? Well, I sure hope he doesn’t again to him or anyone for that matter. Since to all who reads this will know the underlying themes that were going on the minds of these two at least for some of the time. Do I agree with their actions? I have my opinions, but hey, I am just the messenger. Don’ shoot me.

Update: Martini’s at Insomnia

You know, the one thing that ticks me off about being the organizer of 300+ people social group? http://newlysingle.meetup.com/450/ …Is that you never know for sure how many will end up dropping by. Don’t get me wrong, I love the gig and meet new people constantly and so far everyone who I have met has been polite, friendly and willing to increase their circle of friends. In other words, I am glad to have met them.

In this world there are two type of people, those who organizer and those who attend. I prefer the former. It’s far easier than just trying to work out something last minute with your friends and for some reason, people don’t like to make decisions, I guess no one wants to be the fall guy.

I am the blessing and the nightmare of restaurants and bars managers. Do I book a table of ten and then thirty people show up or visa versa? Uh? Let me flip for it! Why not make the stakes higher? Fifty people say that will or might drop by at my party. Should I only book for twenty? Sounds safe, no? Well, what the hell. I make the reservation.

That party is in two hours. I will let you know.

Adventure in a Spanish speaking group.

This is a short editorial piece I wrote, which can be found on their website here.

In this day and age of the Internet, finding individuals who you share common interests with is as easy as doing a simple Google search. It does not, however, take away the uncertainties of finding yourself face-to-face with an individual or a room full of complete strangers. To some that is a concern they would hope to not have to face. But that is what I did when I decided to find someone with whom I could practice my fleeting Spanish. True, I am and was raised in a Spanish speaking country, but after more than 16 years expatriating without as much as uttering a seldom sentence, I found Darwin’s maxim: “If you don’t use it you loose it,” ringing more true everyday.

Sure, rumours abound of Internet horror stories – and we all heard of a few – and some did cross my mind, but I decided to give it a try anyway. You reap what you sow is how the saying goes. So eventually my google searching lead me to a downtown bar on Prince Arthur Street on a Monday night: The Bedford Academy to be exact.

Walked in, not knowing where to go, but after asking the friendly bartender, I was directed to go to “round table near the front window” of the bar. This seemed to be the groups ‘signature table.’ Since then the actual table now changes from time to time as it seems that as more people find out about the group, the meetings get ushered to the bigger tables at the back. Which is far from being a bad thing.

It was then when I met ”Mafalda” the organizer and the rest of the gang. Her real name is Liane, but nicknamed after Quino’s famous Argentinean comic strip character of the same name. Known for her strong opinions yet never loosing the innocence that normally comes while acquiring them. Also having a slight physical resemblance does not hurt to further the point.
Eventually you will get to meet Darwin and Joel, the two founding members of the ‘Spanish Group Matadores,’ both quite willing to tell the history behind the group which goes back to December 2003. However, I will let them tell you the story.

The meetings are amazing. The rules of the club, aside the cordialities of civilized society are pretty much open. One is free to pick a topic, and if one happens to be shy about starting a conversation, not to worry someone is bound to make feel at en su casa soon enough. The welcoming disposition hangs in the air creating a friendly English free zone, where Spanish is the only language spoken. In minutes you are part of the group and totally up to you to join in the conversations or simply watch and listen them go by like real-time collages, but without the subtitles.

It is hard to believe learning a different language would be so easy as attending bi-weekly meetings and having a drink or two. Sure one can take classes, and in no way I would dare negate their benefits. Yet there is something to be said about hearing a language being spoken natively without taking notes and the overbearing anxiety of upcoming tests.
Besides, once you come to a few nights, you will quickly discover that you are not only learning a new language you might find yourself also building new friendships. I don’t know about you, but that worth more than the price of admission. Did I mention the admission is free?
You can be part of this great group by clicking in the following link: http://speak-spanish-club.mexican.ca/index.htm

Mauricio’s Mercenary Report:

“Why do I care so much about getting your money?
Because I am a multi-billion dollar bank owner!”

Many of you may have seen – whether you like it or not – WestJet’s new “Why do we care so much? Because we are also WestJet owners” advertising campaign. Has anyone given some real thought at this mockery of the art of advertising? In one ad a lady in her early 20’s brings what could be one of her equally aged lovers to meet her parents for the first time. Right in the middle of dinner, the father noticeably concerned in the future dowry and financial well being of his offspring cuts right to the chase and asks point blank range: “What do you do?” The daughter, slightly embarrassed utters a restrained and hushed “Dadddddy?’ Does our hero –the one possible lover of many— shy away from this patriotically empowered figure? Oh no, he first gives his girl a ‘later…you and I are gonna get it on, but for now, watch suave at work,’ look and then directs his stare right at the father’s eyes and innocently states: ‘I am an owner of West Jet!’ At which point the father, obviously impressed goes saying a few great things about WestJet before gazing at what we all now know will be his new son-in law. Then he approvingly declares: ‘I like the cut of your gib, son!’ Wow, how many times could have impressed the parents of all my dates with lines like that?

But why stop there? I would have said something along the lines of:
‘Why sir, I am an owner of a multi-national, multi-billion dollar financial company! Heck, if it wasn’t for me, that 125 year institution would be crumbling apart and would not even be half the company it is today if it weren’t for my personal tutelage.’ BOOM! How is that for impressing a girlfriend’s parents?

Can you imagine? After dinner, he would be like: ‘Okay Sir, bring her back in one piece if ravage her you must, but if you decide to marry her right away, please remember that I am fond of the idea of owning a yatch some day.’

Okay, so I made that last part up, but the point it is not lost. There is nothing especial about opting to buy shares in a company. Even less so if you happen to work for said company and most likely get a discount when buying said shares. As such, one can consider the whole ad campaign a moot campaign.

If it were not, then this humble scribe would also happen an owner of multiple world-renowned companies such as Sony, Imax and even Nortel. Gosh, I hope it was not my ongoing philanthropy, constant parties and the purchasing of luxuries such as mouthwash which lead to Nortel’s 500%+ share value plunge, after all, it used to trade at over $165+ and at the time of this writing it closed at $3.24 per share. Oh, MY GOD? WHAT HAVE I DONE? Oh, woe is my power, which I have used for evil!

Talk about misrepresentation of advertising. Keep in mind 4% of West Jet employees cannot claim what their commercial states, as they are not West Jet owners. They must be like the black sheep of the company. I fear for these particular employees since probably the other 86% may have outcast them. Just don’t expect any of them to go looking for you two days after your flight to give your cell phone back and get you $50 over asking price, oh no. They might just keep it for themselves. Those thieves.

Let me tell you about the company I happen to be an owner right now. What if I were to tell you that we rip our clients off by giving them chickpeas for interest in exchange to safeguard their hard earned money so we can use it for own investing? Heck, we might as well give you thumbs tacks for interest, at least at the end of the year you could try melting them to sell the aluminium they are made of. As it stands, there are better financial institutions, one with an orange logo comes to mind, at least they are willing to keep your money from loosing too much to the most basic of all economic detractors: inflation. Which at present it stands at 2.96% percent. Am I making this up? Do you think what I say is slanderous? Should I perhaps get sued for libel? Well, I could be if I wasn’t right. Hey, why believe me? Lets see what the Bank of Canada’s inflation calculator says, try here: http://www.bankofcanada.ca/en/rates/inflation_calc.html

Check how much $100 of your hard earned dollars has lost in worth since last year in comparison to today. Oh, and there is that little thing called ‘service fees,’ that as we all know goes directly into my pocket because after all, I care because I am an owner. Does this sound like we put our clients first?
Which of course brings me back to advertising. Do not get me wrong. I am foremost a capitalist. But as time moves forward, good ideas in the world of advertising have transformed from the once art of salesmanship and persuasion to just being hit with a message over and over and over again, regardless of whether is wrong or right. It almost like a Road Runner cartoon, except that we are the coyote and the anvil that hits us on the head has the words ‘I am lovin’ it’ written all over it. The medium is the message? Sure, the problem is that before you could turn it off. Try walking anywhere in a city without having to stare to a bloody medium…Mr. McLuhan would be not pleased.

There was a time when an advertising campaign was so unique, honest, so inspired and dare I say it, brilliant that just seeing it once, just once was enough to make you think and maybe, just maybe give the brand a chance. Yes, these are very strong words indeed. David Ogilvy, considered by many as being one of the most instrumental fathers in the world of advertising would be appalled to the level at which the advertising has taken the world as it tries to sell repetition over fact. One of my favourite quotes of his – if perhaps a bit dated – is “The consumer isn’t a moron; she is your wife.” He was referring of course that an educated consumer would choose a brand for what it factually claims it can do over the image it portrays it can do. Another example, do you think wearing Juicy pants will make you slim and hip only because it is endorsed by a another by-product of our advertising crazy society: the celebrities? Not if your hips are size 18. But hey that’s not a problem anymore. Why tell kids –particularly little girls- to eat healthy when is cheaper to hire larger sized celebrities to endorse your products? The only difference is that is has been done slowly over a long period of time, but if you really pay attention you will catch it. See the difference in between now and lets say five years ago and you will know what I mean. Or why not even up the ante? Why just not resize the size of clothing altogether to adjust to fatter people? You used to fit on a size 4? Well, not since 2004, now you are a size 0! Just like that. The same thing has been done to the fellas. Yes, just like that. I feel magic in the air! But why believe me? When you can read it for yourself on this article from the New York Times: Here.

But hey, there is always hope, so what if you we are getting our brains Laundromat-ed (at our own expense, of course) by advertising? Just go buy some shares in some global company and not just hear about the Owners Club. Be a member, be an owner and feel the power! Just don’t expect to be treated like one.