KRIS
“ID?”
“Are you f*****g kidding me?”
It was cold out. You get it from both sides in this town. If a front comes from the south it’s blowing off the lake, which cools the air. And if it comes from the north … well, Canada. And while we’re unpacking our early onset Man Shouting at Clouds, why must everything in Toronto be downstairs: washrooms, keg fridges, my apartment and tonight, a speakeasy someone at work told me about. Run by so-and-so cool kid. I just didn’t expect the door guy would ask –
“No ID and I can’t let you in, pal.”
Swore under my breath. Not his fault, my mantra, not his fault. I pulled out my clip with a very worn-out credit card and other pieces.
“Here.” I hand him my driver’s licence, which he waved a Maglite over haphazardly. Without saying a word he waved me
