Saturday, June 10, 2006

Day Three: Hostage Update

Koko fans, I must warn you. What you are about to read you will find high disturbing. Fortunately, the pictures have not yet arrived. But I tell you, when I received this update from Mrs. Peeps regarding her captivity, I lay down my head and wept. No, I did NOT also nap. (For that I may also have leaked a tear or two, but never mind that.) I am terribly worried about Mrs. Peeps; will she survive her ordeal? For the faint of heart, I beg of you not to read on.

My dearest Koko,

I had been hoping that I would have better news to tell you one day regarding my capture. Sadly, that day is not today, and my situation looks even more dire than yesterday.

Today started innocently enough, with Ms. Blonde One and I heading out for breakfast. I was hoping to distract her, which I thought would be easy enough, her being blonde and all. Look! I was going to say. Is that a shiny new quarter on the ground? But we were lured to Bellagio Cafe, and she remained surprisingly focussed on the task at hand. Perhaps tomorrow I will keep her away from the caffeine...

Anyway, following our meal, our adventure began. We took the Seabus to North Vancouver. I found my sea legs. The Ms. Blonde One and her intimidating posse forced me on a long trek over a 137 metre bridge suspended 70 metres in the air, followed by a treetops adventure, where I was compelled to walk endlessly on a series of elevated suspension bridges, many at least 30 metres above ground. Finally, she set me free to return to earth, only to discover that I no longer had sea legs nor tree legs, just little rubber bands as placeholders where my legs should have been.

The day became increasingly more bizarre. It was International Knit In Public day, but was I allowed to KIP? Oh no, of course not, and not only that I had to endure Public Humiliation when this sad fact was witnessed by a member of Team Canada. What are the odds?

Indeed. And then I had my unexpected eye-bleeding experience -- over 200 buck-nekked bikers, cycling down Cordova Street. As if we hadn't walked enough, we trekked over to Yaletown Brewing Company, where I was forced to drink IPA and Seasonal Porter, amongst many other things. I tell you, Ms. Blonde One is ruthless!

Could my day be over? I am sure that you know the answer. Ms. Blonde One still had a heavy agenda for us. A long walk off the map to the middle of nowhere, to find La Casa Gelato which carries over 218 kinds of ice-cream, gelatos and sorbets. I had to eat the bizarre balsamic vinegar gelato washed down by tamarind sorbet. I didn't let on to Ms. Blonde one I actually liked it! While I couldn't muster up my escape, I did have to giggle when Ms. Blonde One's Yaletown Adventure back-fired on her...she was a tad uncomfortable as a long trek when you have a bladder the size of a, ahem, pea, is actually a very bad plan. The bad plan was further exacerbated by yet another long trek, but this one through the misnamed neighborhood of Strathcona. Perhaps people of Vancouver smoke too much wacky tabaccy (clearly, yes, see buck-nekked above) or they are very poor spellers. (Granted, one could easily lead to the other.) In my mind, Strathcona should actually be spelled Skanksville. On our journey back to the digs, we encountered many unsavoury sights, sounds, smells and street denizens. We saw many people playing with their zippers, hocking large loogies, wearing balloon jewellery, doing interpretative pilates, as well as many needle cases.

Finally, at long last, we arrived back at the hotel, which just last night we were cursing when the fire alarm went off at 1:30 am. We were safe, but in my mind, less than sound. I am barely intact, having lost my legs and feet. Every part of my body hurts. And we're still not done. We have to go to the West End, to have dinner at the Banana Leaf and drinks at the Parkside Restaurant. How will I ever survive? Ms. Blonde One is trying every tactic in the book to kill me. Although if truth be told, I may welcome death soon. I noted as we walked over the Georgia Street Viaduct, that unlike Toronto, Vancouverites have no issues with jumpers -- the walls of the viaduct would be easy to leap from...

Please send help ASAP. I fear the worst.

Yours in absolute desolution,
Mrs. Peeps

1 comment:

The Blonde One said...

Really koko - can you believe everything you read? Surely you must know about the hyper active and melodramatic imagination of Mrs. Peeps.