Day one hundred and eighteen: this never gets old.

I don't know and I don't care how the other residents of West Broadway/ Wolseley feel about the new Subway that just opened up on the corner of Sherbrook Street and Westminster Avenue, but I am trilled. 

I still have yet to do a lick of grocery shopping and there's not much, I assume, that one can make with Bisquick, paprika and a tin of Vienna Sausage. 

Let me be clear when I tell you that the only reason I have canned cocktail wieners in my cupboard is strictly due to the fact that it's some sort of Newfoundland thing so my mom, I mean Santa, put them in everyone's stocking at Christmas. And really, what's a Christmas without canned meat, am I right? 

That all said, a Subway within walking distance is a welcomed commodity as far as I'm concerned. At least it will ensure that I get fed from time to time. How I manage to have a sink full of dishes everyday with a fridge full of condiments and no food, I will never know. 

While the Subway employee's at my neighborhood sandwich shop are alright, there will never be a replacement for the Subway guys in Osborne Village. They're much more personable and they do backflips for tips... still. 

The backflipping Subway guy told me he's movie store locations to Carmen so naturally I had to get my fill of backflips while I still could. 

The thing is, I would have tipped regardless. 

Here's hoping the Sandwich Artists in my neck of the woods start practicing. 

Day seventy four: the best $2 I've ever spent!

Maybe it's because I am living off of my tips or maybe it's because I'm getting weary in my old age or maybe it's because I've become a bitter hag but I find myself becoming more and more annoyed when I go out to bars in Winnipeg.


I went to a birthday party at Dylan O'Connors Irish Pub on Pembina Highway. $12 to get in the door! $2 to check my coat, $10 for cover. Immediately I thought about the bottle of wine I could be enjoying in the comfort of my own home for that $12 (perhaps even a magnum of the cheap stuff!). 


Almost instantly, my nasal passage was attacked with an overwhelming smell of Axe Body Spray. My eyes were the next to go: deep v-neck Ed Hardy shirts and fedoras everywhere.


Don't get me wrong, I've spent my fair share of evenings at Winnipeg bars. When I was 18, my friends and I spent Friday, Saturday and Monday nights at The 'A'. (May it rest in peace) A couple years later, it was the Lid, formerly known at the Palladium. And now if I go anywhere is usually the Red Cactus on Corydon Ave. 


I still maintain that the Lid was the best bar in Winnipeg, EVER. Cheap drinks, so-so music but cheap drinks. It has since been turned into a banquet room for reasons I will never know and I've been mourning it's departure for a couple years now. 


After a few beers, my crew and I made our way through the sea of hair extensions, sequins covered tank tops and spray tans back into the real world. 


Obviously we stopped for some food on the way home at Subway on Osborne Street and the night was saved. I tossed a couple bucks in the tip jar with blatant disregard for a sign that read: 

                  We will do a back flip for tips of $2 or more. For realz. 

Sometimes I forget what it's like to be appreciative of a $2 tip. There was once a time, while shucking lattes and other assorted over-prices coffee creations at a Starbucks, that I was elated to even get 50 cents. I make a point of always giving a buck or two when I see a tip jar full on knowing that not everyone does. 


I told the Subway guys, after they regaled a story of two drunk girls kissing, that a backflip was not necessary but they insisted. Naturally, I pulled out my camera phone. Even if buddy didn't nail it, at least I get a clip of the attempt:

***Disclaimer: The video you are about to see contains foul language that is not suitable for children or my mom.***

That $2 backflip was nothing short of amazing!