This neighborhood has gone to shit Part II

Deep woe surges within me as I come across another fine specimen of Montreal yuppiedom on the very same bleak Sunday. After my first encounter, it occurs to me that yuppies can not only out reproduce me, they also outrun me. So I take it upon myself to infiltrate their jogging paradise called the Mount-Royal. In a way, I myself have succumbed to that trend. But I persevere, knowing full well that many more trials will be endured before my unrelenting spirit wavers. I struggle to take every back country trail I can find so as to be alone in this overcrowded oasis. But because my heart rate can’t handle the harsh relief of the stray paths, I am obliged to return to the fold. The spicy eggplant sandwich that I had eaten earlier on does not seem to help much either. From one of the lookouts, I decide to take the long and winding stairs down to a lower level. I usually sneak or even impose my way through leisurely inconsiderate slow walkers but I decide to calm down and go at a cruising speed behind one particular pair that took the liberty of walking side by side in order to block everyone for six flights of stairs. Suddenly, an unholy sight strikes me into submission and I remain in an unshakeable trance for the remainder of the downward trek. There it is. The beast itself is looking at me through the back of these two heads that crowd my vision. Although my wish is not to inflict torment onto the reader, I will nonetheless do so without any guilt or reservation. They have matching black caps with an orange and red fiery motif. And they have their names on the back of each respective cap. And I suspect that these demonic sounding appellations are none other than each other’s pet names. Oh the humanity! Not since joint email addresses have I witnessed something so gruesome and vile! To that, dear reader, I leave you to reel in the realization that we share this realm with a god forsaken breed. And breed, they do.