Our second night in Vancouver, Jessica and Amy took us to dinner in Yaletown, which is a former industrial area in downtown transformed into one of the most densely populated neighborhoods in the city. I couldn't help but feel that in about ten years, downtown Los Angeles is going to feel a lot like Yaletown. I can hardly wait, because I had a blast.
We had dinner at Capone's, this Italian restaurant with great live jazz. It was at the end of a row of restaurants, clubs and bars, on top of which were some great-looking lofts. The people, food, music, ambience - everything was wonderful, a really memorable experience. At one point Jim whispered to me, "I can't wait until they open a Capone's in our neighborhood." I'm crossing all my appendages.
Right after this picture was taken, we walked out, trying to figure out whether to stay in Yaletown or hit a club in Gastown. When all of a sudden, this panhandler comes up and talks to us with a really heavy French accent, I mean Clouseau-heavy. Hell, let's blogname his Clouseau. Anyway, Clouseau approached us and I didn't understand most of his rap because of the accent. He was pushing a fairly expensive bicycle and asking for money, that much I caught. But I guess he got tired of repeating himself because he was more than a little cranky, he was now just DEMANDING money.
He was going on about something and I'm not even going to try to write it out phonetically. So for maybe the fourth time I ask, "What? I don't understand a thing you're saying." He then said, "My Eeenglish, ees bad." To which Jim replied, "No your English is great, it's your panhandling skills that suck." Not to him, mind you, just me. And I'm a little tipsy. So of course I laugh, as I often do at all his jokes regardless of how funny they really are, and Clouseau LOSES IT. In French. Although he's absolutely livid, all I can think of is the Pink Panther and Clouseau saying, "Yew have for me, ze massage?" or, "Assbucket?" So I'm laughing and Jessica comes over with her leftovers and asks me, "Does he want food? Here, give it to him." So I hand him the leftovers and he pulls back his lips to show us his gums, and with his fingers in his mouth, screams, "I haf no teef... I het yew!" (Translation: I have no teeth... I hate you!)
I should've just offered him all the cash in my pocket if he would hoist Jim up on his shoulders like the Spiderman Midget did for Skip. Now that would've been a great vacation picture.