I went to class today. I woke up at 8am, an hour earlier than usual. I left to catch the bus to the GO train, the subway at Union didn’t work so I had to take the PATH to Easton then TMU. It’s supposed to be the coldest here in Toronto. I attended the final class needed for me to graduate. It went well, my professor is a yapper who was fine with me missing the final group presentation. I told the group to pick a use case and I’ll have a demo ready. I now take the GO train back home. Thinking about another man who yapped a lecture on computers, devops, virtual machines, religion, christianity, growing up in toronto, Cancun, Spanish grammar, and being a DJ. He was in his 30s, his dad 50 apparently born in 1974, with a sister who’s 13 and a brother who’s 6. Half his teeth were missing. There was sincerity in his tone but justification in his voice. He embodied the character of a performative male beyond my explanations. It was lovely to be a part of. Not once did he ask me about myself. During his yapping, all I could think, was how do dates get a word in? Obvious to say, I lacked the courage, or heart to say nothing maybe? An interesting fellow, who came to see me on torontos coldest friday (apparently)