My friend Brandy and I went to see a movie tonight at Tinseltown. Afterwards, I walked her to her bus at Pender and Abbott, and then turned for home. As I waited at the crosswalk for the light to change, an old neighbourhood veteran in a shabby suit, with a glass eye (no lie) and unkempt beard, carrying two liquor store bags, walked up and stood beside me.

"Have you had a good day?" he asked me cordially, as we waited.

"I did have a good day," I replied. "Did you?"

"Well, I didn't get to sleep until 4 am last night," he said.

"Me either," I exclaimed. "I didn't fall asleep until 5!"

"Well, at least it didn't rain today. It was supposed to rain, you know." I nodded.

The old man shuffled a little closer, and whispered conspiratorially, "And look at what I got today," pulling a CIBC Visa card out of his pocket.

"Well, be careful with that," I said. "Make sure you don't max it out. You have to pay that all back."

"I already did max it out," he said, holding up his liquor bags. "Canadian Tire, they gave me one too. $2000 limit. I maxed it out in a day." He showed me the liquor in his bags - several bottles of expensive scotch, and Hennessy. A lot of it.

"I prefer Remy Martin," he said grandly, rattling off some rare vintage. "But that costs over $2000 a bottle. I go through a bottle every day. Now, let me take you to McDonalds' and buy you whatever you want. I've got plastic."

I declined politely, and he shrugged and walked me the rest of the way home, nattering to me about all his credit cards, how he spent all the money on them, how it was "his" money to spend, and he didn't care that collection agencies were after him. I didn't quite know how to respond. I simply listened, and when we got to my door, he gave me a hug.

"You take care now," I said. It was all I could think of to say.

"You have a good night," he replied, and walked away into the night, his bottles clinking.