Three Shades Of Blue
		By Jesse Smith
		http://slicer69.tripod.com


	I watched as the woman ran down the hall toward the elevator. She had
a baby in one arm and the other was waving in a universal "wait, stop" motion.
Someone in the elevator slapped a button or two on the control panel and the
doors came sliding shut, right on the baby's head. The woman screamed and
the doors bounced open. The would-be elevator operator stammered an apology
and fumbled for the Open Door button. Again, he hit the wrong one and the
doors came slamming shut on the infant.


	I turned to Leaf, who was watching the proceedings with a blank
expression. 
	"Is it just me, or is the violence on TV desensitizing us?" I asked.
	Leaf turned his carrot top head to glance at me, his blue eyes
taking a moment to focus on my face.
	"Maybe," he said and turned back to the tragic drama on the screen.
	I shrugged, Leaf wasn't much for conversation when he was stoned. Mostly
he just listened to music and wrote in his blue notebook.
	"I'm going to make a snack run, you want anything?" I asked.
	"A big bag of Cheesies," Leaf replied in monotone.
	I got up and collected my shoes from the chaotic pile by the door.


	When I first arrived in Calgary, all full of ideas and hope, I
quickly discovered a few things. One of which was it is a lot harder to find
an affordable place to stay than I was used to. I was standing on a train
platform, wondering where I should go next when Leaf wandered over to me.
	"Hey," he said, "What's up?"
	"I, um- I'm new in town and I'm trying to figure out where to spend the
night."
	"New in town, eh? Got a light?"
	I told him I did not.
	"Cool, wanna crash at my place for a while? I've got a spare room.
There's no bed, just a mattress."
	"I'll take it."
	Leaf nodded, "Good, now why don't you come meet some people?"
	"Uh, sure. But, ah, can I ask you something?"
	"Sure, man."
	"Why did you ask me if I had a light?"
	"I can't stand living with smokers."


	So I moved in with Leaf, who's real name I never learned. Everyone
simply called him Leaf, no doubt due to his habit of intoxicating his body
with certain illegal substances. He hailed from British Columbia, the interior, he
told me, and had moved to Calgary to, as he put it, "escape his crazy-ass-
wants-to-marry-me-off mother". I happily made my home on the floor of Leaf's
spare bedroom, and tried not to think of what might have caused the last
room mate to no longer occupy the space. I didn't ask and Leaf never said. He
was quiet most of the time, occasionally going off on a rant about how the system
was broken and how all naturally growing plants should be legal.
	"It's like the lawmakers think God made a mistake," he'd say.


	I walked down the street, to the little drug store on 8th. I opened
the door and noticed a lady coming up behind me. I held the outside door
open for her and then turned to push the inner door out of the way. It opened
automatically (automated chivery) and I fell through the space where the door
was no longer. The lady entered the store and looked down on me.
	"Thank you, dear sir," she greeted me with a mocking formal tone.
	"Not sir, just Peter, dear lady," I replied with as much dignity as I could 
from the tile floor.
	She offered me her hand and I took it. The door came swinging back and
pushed us both over into a stack of Coke-a-Cola cans. The resulting clatter,
sticky spraying foam and giggles brough a legion of store clerks down upon us.


	As I walked back to the apartment I shared with Leaf, I whistled a little
and walked with a spring in my step. Somehow, between the embarrassment, the
angry clerks and many apologies on our part, I'd landed a date with Laura.


	Laura Tencou was born twenty-six years before I met her, to two loving
parents in Saskatchewan. Her childhood was, for all story-telling purposes
rather boring. She was a nice girl with dark brown eyes, a coy smile and
blonde hair which often had a mind of its own. In fact, the only thing which
set her apart in her younger years, and had a continuing effect through to
her adulthood was that Laura was born with six toes on each foot. While not
a problem in and of itself, the extra toed Tencou quickly learned on her
first day of school that it set her apart. Up to the age of five the only
note her family had ever made of the extra toes was to slightly modify the
"This little piggy" routine -- the extra one performed the two-step. But
children can be cruel and are quick to single out differences in others. Laura
quickly adjusted by wearing socks all of the time. In fact, by junior high
she'd developed quite a taste for all sorts of socks. Striped ones, cartoon
covered socks, knee-high socks and especially socks with stars on them. The only
kind she did not collect were toe-socks.
	Young Laura had excellent balance (in fact she nearly never fell between the
time she was twelve and the day she met Peter), perhaps due to the extra toes and
perhaps not, and took an interest in dancing -- waltz and two-step especially. And,
like many children from Saskatchewan, got bored of her quiet up bringing and moved
to Calgary.


	When I returned home, Leaf was seated in a corner, softly strumming a
guitar. His yes were closed and the fingers of his left hand floated absent-mindedly
across the strings, making up chords. I quietly laid a bag of Cheesies near his
feet and went to bed.


	Tuesday night was date night. Laura and I met at a little Italian restaurant
near the centre of downtown. I hadn't really learned my way around the city yet, so most
of my travel was done within walking distance of the apartment. The restaurant was dimly
lit, with soft music playing just within ear reach. Waiters buzzed about the tables
like so many bees in spring. We settled ourselves with a glass of red wine each and
took a look at the menu.
	The description of the fettucine was causing my tummy to rumble.
	"What looks good to you?" I asked, glancing up.
	Laura, who did not look up from her menu replied, "Elevators are bipolar."
	"Pardon me?"
	"Elevators," she said, looking up, "They go up, they go down. They're usually
near the top or the bottom of a building."
	I nodded.
	"They're bipolar. I'm sorry, I don't know why that just occurred to me."
	"Do you work with elevators?" I asked.
	She gave a nervous smile, "No, I work-"
	A man approached our table that didn't look at all like a waiter.
	"Laura? Hi," he said, giving her a friendly hug. If he was our waiter, he was
getting no tip.
	"Steve. Hi."
	"Sorry to interrupt," he apologized, glancing my way, "but I was wondering
how Jon is doing."
	"Jon?"
	"Yeah."
	"Oh, we haven't talked much recently."
	Steve raised an eyebrow, "Really? 'Cause Sue said the two of you were skinny dipping
on the weekend."
	They suddenly had a great deal more of my attention than did the fettucine.
	"Oh," Laura said quickly, "There were actually a whole bunch of us."
	She blushed and looked back and forth between Steve and I, "Did that sound as
slutty as I think it did?" she asked.
	Steve just nodded and backed away from the table.
	"I didn't know Calgary had nude beaches," I joked.
	Laura smiled nervously, "It doesn't. A bunch of us went out to this lake and
had a few drinks and-"
	I held a hand up, "No need to explain, I like swimming too."
	Our waiter appeared, putting a pause to our conversation and took our orders.
	We made small talk, which fills up more space than big talk, but is less informative.
Laura told me some stories about growing up in the flat land, which she claimed wasn't
nearly as flat as people thought it was. I told odd stories from my past in Nova Scotia.
We ate, we laughed and we consumed chocolate cake for dessert.


	"Can I walk you home?" I asked when we exited into the cool Calgarian evening.
	"It's only a few blocks," Laura answered.
	"I don't think a nice lady should walk home by herself," I insisted.
	"What makes you think I'm a nice lady?" she asked, looking up at me with
her beautiful brown eyes.
	"You came from Saskatchewan," I pointed out, "There's nothing there for you
to perform evil with."
	"I stole a tractor once."
	I laughed.
	"Alright, Prince Charming, you can walk me home."


	When I returned to home sweet (Holy pot smoke Batman!) home, I found Leaf
quite baked in front of the TV. He was playing with an old Nintendo game with
a great deal of focus and a great lack of skill.
	"Hey," I greeted him.
	Leaf half-turned to see who it was. He had a habit of not locking his door
and as such was aware anyone could walk in.
	"How'd it go?" Mario fell into a bottomless hole.
	"Good. It was... Great, really. She's pretty and funny and-"
	"Hot?"
	"Yeah."
	"Cool. Did she take you home?"
	"No. Well, I walked her home and we parted ways."
	Mario was gobbled up by a giant plant, "Cool. You going to see her again?"
	"Yeah. What level are you on?"
	"World three -- the water world and not the crappy Dances With Wolves dude one.
Pick up a controller."
	I did as instructed and we began from the beginning. While not as practiced as Leaf,
I was notably more coordinated. We progressed slowly.
	"Mario is my roll model," Leaf told me, "He eats mushrooms, takes leaves and
digs burning plants. His imagination is wild and free and he fights for love."
	"Or, in your case, gets hit in the head with a boomerang after wandering in
the desert for too long," I joked.
	"I tell you, man, I'm going to go take some 'srooms and come back to
stomp that mofo."
	I wasn't sure he Leaf was actually going to eat magic mushrooms or if he was
referring solely to the video game. It turned out to be the latter. However, a few minutes
later Leaf fell asleep and his character was gobbled up by a large fish. Terrible way
to go, I thought.


	Leaf, for all of his vegetative states, liked to be out of doors. He liked hiking,
he liked to canoe and he like to ride his bicycle. That Friday evening, when the
city had cooled off enough to be bearable, he lead me on an uphill journey. 
	When I asked him where we were going he'd only reply, "You'll see."
	The city of Calgary is in a shallow valley, a bowl. A river runs through the
middle and that is where the skyscrapers and the businesses crowd together. Once one starts uphill,
away from the offices, the scene quickly turns green.
	Leaf was quiet, soaking in the quiet rustle of trees, thinking about whatever
Leaf thinks about when his eyes are unfocused.
	"Leaf," I waited until I was sure he was listening, "What do you like in a woman."
	Leaf grinned, "Me."
	I laughed, "No, I mean what attracts you to a woman?"
	"Physically?"
	"Yeah. Something out of the ordinary."
	"Like a fetish?"
	"Sure."
	"I like moist eyes," he said. I waited. "I like it when a woman has eyes that,
like, glisten. Eyes that are clear and sparkling and damp. Maybe it's from contacts or
maybe she's just well hydrated. I dunno. But I'd follow wet, shiny eyes anywhere."
	"I like purses," I said.
	"You mean, like pursed lips?"
	"No, I mean purses, handbags. Little ones. There's a mystery to a small bag. Like,
what could be in there? A pen? Lipstick? A cell phone? So many possibilities in one
little bag. It's sexy."
	"You're one of those guys that thinks a woman looks sexier in lingerie than
when she's naked, aren't you?" Leaf inquired.
	"Does cake look better with or without frosting, man?"
	"We're here," Leaf announced. He swept his arms up over his head.
	"We're where?"
	Leaf pointed. Before us was a house. A house that was round and painted in
white and black hexagon patterns just like-
	"The soccer ball house!" Leaf said proudly, "An excellent display of wealth over
taste. What do you think?"
	"It's a big soccer ball," I said dumbly.
	"Yep."
	"Wow. Someone lives inside that thing?"
	"One can assume. Wanna kick it?"
	"Kick the house?"
	"Hell yeah! What else are you going to do with the city's largest soccer ball?"


	On Saturday I arranged to meet Laura again. She sweetly agreed to meet me at the
base of the Calgary tower, a proud 630 foot red mushroom. Or, as Laura referred to it,
"A pale imitation of the CN Tower, proving that Calgary men feel inadequate."
	"That's not entirely fair," I objected, looking up at the bottom of the
great, pale imitation.
	"Maybe not," Laura answered, "but someone obviously had envy."
	She bought me a Vietnamese sub sandwhich, my first.
	"It's like a regular sub, but with strange and exotic veggies," she assured me.
	Laura also introduced me to bubble tea, which I described as a milk shake
with boiled marbles at the bottom. She laughed and pointed out Lions Gate Bridge. Something
about being a tour guide really appealed to this girl, I thought.
	We had crossed the bridge to the north side of the river when the sky darkened. Laura
looked up at the gathering clouds and made an odd, animal-like sound in her throat.
	"We'd better hurry," she said.
	I looked around, "Where are we going?" I asked.
	Laura was watching a patch of sky and appeared not to have heard me. It occurred to me that
that moment that she had beautiful hair.
	"We'll go to my place," she announced and headed west.
	"What's the hurry?" I wondered.
	"You'll see."


	Ten minutes later, we'd covered almost ten blocks, Laura's shorter legs putting the distance
behind her at a rate that made it hard for me to keep up. That's when the sky ripped open and
poured down water at a rate I'd never before seen. The rain fell as is from buckets over our
heads and in seconds I was soaked to the skin. Then it got worse. Hail half the size of golf
balls mixed with the flood. A minute later the street was under water and I had to hold my arms
over my head to ward of the beating from the hail. Hail? In June?
	Laura led me under an over-hang, pulled out a set of keys and let us into her
apartment building. We watched the hail falling from behind the safety of the door while I
caught my breath.
	"Ready for some stairs?" she asked and headed for the end of the hall.
	Laura lived on the third floor, high above the rising flood water. Her place was nicely
decorated, pictures and paintings covering the walls. Odd combinations of furniture -- not
by type, but by colour -- clashed together (like so many Titans) in the living room.
	"It's not much, but it's home," she said, "Now, let me see if I can find something
that'll fit you."
	Laura disappeared into another room, which I assumed was her bedroom. She returned while
I was admiring her laptop, open on her coffee table. I was actually almost as interested in
the fact she, someone the same age as Leaf and I, would have a coffee table as the electronic device.
 	"This should be about your size," she said, tossing me a pair of shorts and a
t-shirt.
	I caught them and held the shirt up. It did look to be my size.
	"It's my brother's," Laura answered my unasked question, "He stays here
when he comes comes down to the city. Always leaves something here."
	"Thanks."
	"Why don't you put some music on," she indicated the laptop, "while I
get changed."
	"It's a nice-looking laptop," I said as tapped a few keys.
	"Thanks. It helps to be able to take my work on the road with
me on the few chances I get to travel," Laura said on her way to her bedroom.
	"I see," I replied, "And what sort of work is it you take with-" I stopped
when I realized I was talking to her door.
	Now, let's see, music. I moved the laptop's mouse to what I hoped was a music
player. It popped up right away, ready to produce digital music. Snappy, I thought.
What would be an appropriate sound for a second date...? I decided to let the computer
pick the next song at random.
	"Sweat, baby, sweat, baby, sex is a Texas drought
	Me and you do the kind of stuff that only Prince would sing about."
	"(Bloodhound Gang -- The Bad Touch)," the computer identified the song.
	I ordered it to pick another tune.
	"You're the picture of perfection, object of this man's affection
	I'm lookin' for a passionate connection, a place to put my-"
	"(Dr. J -- Perfect Picture)," the computer calmly informed me.
	Next, please!
	"I love the way you look at me, I feel the pain you place inside
	You lock me up inside your dirty cage-"
	"(Puddle Of Mud -- Control)," the naughty machine declared.
	Next, damn it, next!
	"Listen as the wind blows, From across the great divide
	Voices trapped in yearning, Memories trapped in time..."
	"(Sarah ..."
	Good, this will do. At least I'd found something PG. Laura stepped out of her bedroom 
in a dry tank top and sweats.
	"Find anything you like?" she asked.
	"Yeah, you've got an interesting collection, so it wasn't hard to
find something I like-"
	"And I would be the one, to hold you down
	Kiss you so hard, I’ll take your breath away."
	" -- Possession)," the computer offered.
	Well, shoot.
	"You like this song?" Laura asked.
	"I, well," I glanced between her and the musical laptop -- the modern
jukebox, "I just set it to play randomly."
	She smiled and nodded coyly, "Of course. Would you like to change?"
	"The song?"
	"Your clothes. You're still wet."
	I looked down. My cold clothes were stuck to my body and making little
puddles around my feet.
	"Right," I picked up the clothes she'd given me and retreated to the bathroom.
I peeled off my clothes and tossed them into the bathtub. Laura had been correct
in guessing my size. I slipped her brother's clothes on, tried to make myself
look presentable -- not easy in boxers and an old t-shirt, and returned to
the living room.
	"Damn skippy, baby
	You make me feel like the Amazon's running between my thighs."
	Had I been close enough to see the screen, Laura's laptop would have let me
know the tune was, "(Paula Cole -- Feelin' Love)".
	"I thought this would be more appropriate," Laura said from where she sat
on the couch.


	At this point I feel I should say that we had Earth-shaking, sky-ripping,
wild animal sex that ought to be marked in the history books -- perhaps as a footnote --
and that neither of us was capable of moving for a good two hours afterward.
	But, for the sake of accuracy, dear reader, I shall not tell you such things. I may
say only that we had sex and that it was good. It was the sort of quick, passionate, fumbling
sex two friends might have one night after too many drinks. It was giggly, new-lover sex and
afterward we lay together on Laura's living room floor and made quiet observations about each other
and our surroundings.


	Laura insisted we should have popsicles.
	"We're hot and sweaty, they're cold and refreshing. It's the perfect after-sex
treat," she told me.
	"You've sold me. Thanks," I said, taking the frozen treat.
	"Your very welcome," Laura kissed my cheek before taking a nibble on her
frozen fruit-on-a-stick. "One of my teachers in highschool said once that
happiness is having a freezer full of popsicles."
	"Interesting view on human happiness," I observed.
	"Well, people who have the means to have a home with a freezer and popsicles have no
excuse not to be happy."
	"I know I am, and it's not even my freezer."
	We laughed.


	The following Saturday afternoon, I was sitting on the couch in the apartment
I shared with Leaf. The clock said 1:55pm. I was going over some notes from work. Less
notes, perhaps, than commandments. Thou shall not steal, thy shalt not commit
sexual harassment in the workplace, thy shall not give out the secrets of thy
company... At the bottom was a place for my signature and the date. I was pleasantly
surprised the papers didn't come with a little knife to draw blood to help seal the deal.
Companies these days are so very paranoid. It is unfortunate that corporations have yet
to realize that ethics do not come on paper.
	Leaf walked through the apartment door.
	"Hey," he greeted me, "what's going on?"
	"Um, nothing much. I-"
	"You cleaned."
	"Yeah."
	"Does this mean I get to meet your lady-friend?"
	"Well, she's coming over and-"
	"Excellent," Leaf flopped himself down on the couch next to me, "I finally get to
meet this girl. Want some root beer?"
	"No thanks."
	"You don't know what you're missing, man. This is the root beer to end all root beers,"
Leaf held up a bottle and expertly popped the top off. "You sure?"
	I nodded.
	"Snoopy would be so disappointed in you. Cheers. So, have you taken her cherry yet?"
	"Leaf!"
	He shrugged, "Just asking. Hey, you know what I'd like to do?"
	"Um, what?"
	"I'd like to open a religious supply store and leave it totally empty!"
	"Really?"
	"Yeah, present a message. What do you think?"
	"I don't think it would be very profitable."
	There was a knock at the door. I jumped up and raced to the door. She was right on time.
How odd for a girl.
	I opened the door, "Hi, Laura. Come on in."
	On time and she looked stunning. I liked this girl.
	"Laura," I stepped to the side, "I'd like you to meet my room mate-"
	"Leaf," she finished for me.
	"-Leaf."
	"Hello, Laura," Leaf greeted her.
	"You two have met?"
	"Hi, Leaf."
	"Root beer?" he offered.
	"Sure."
	"When did the two of you...?"
	"We dated a while back," Leaf answered me, handing her a fresh bottle.
	"Briefly," Laura added.
	"She wasn't into my hip and swinging life style."
	"You lived in your friend's basement, drinking root beer and getting high."
	"You like root beer."
	"Sure, and I've nothing against you getting high. Some. Of. The. Time."
	I decided it was time to de-rail this conversation, "Laura, why don't we go
grab some ice cream? It's hot out and-"
	"Sounds great!" she agreed and breezed out the door.
	I followed.
	"Hey, man," Leaf called as I was on my way out the door.
	"Yeah,' I stuck my head back in.
	"About what I said earlier?" Leaf took a pull of his root beer, "I'm sorry, there's no
cherries left on that tree."


	Later, at the nearest ice cream shop -- a business which breaks out all over Calgary like
chicken pox during the summer season -- Laura and I ordered cones.
	"Blueberry buzz," I requested.
	"Sultry strawberry surprise," Laura told her teenage server with a wink. He blushed and thrust
his head into the freezer after this arm to cool off.
	"I don't think you'll have to leave a tip after that," I whispered to her.
	She giggled, "You mean I'm buying?" she asked.
	"No, but you are in charge of leaving the tip."
	We took the ice cream for a walk through the south part of downtown. We passed a school
and some little houses. We chatted and laughed and licked ice cream, fighting a loosing battle
with the hot sun.
	"Look at that," Laura pointed with a sticky finger at a near-by house.
	I looked. It appeared to be a regular house with a door, a few windows and
a balcony. A balcony filled with the body of a golden cow.
	"The golden calf of Calgary," Laura announced.
	"I see the strangest things here," I muttered.
	"What?"
	"That's bizarre. Is that really a golden calf?"
	"In colour if not in content, yes."
	"Bunch of heathens in this town."
	"Is it okay with you that I dated Leaf?"
	I thought about it for a moment, "I think so. It was a bit of a surprise is all.
Do you guys still get along?"
	"We haven't talked since the break, about two years ago. But there weren't any
heard feelings, per ce. We just didn't work as a couple," Laura shrugged, "I get
bored easy."
	"So you'd be okay with all three of us hanging out sometime?"
	Laura smiled, "I'd be happy to, as long as you're okay with it."
	"Deal."


	I returned home on Monday, to find Leaf sitting naked on our living room floor,
a game controller in his hand. On the TV screen before him, I could see little go-karts,
driven by cartoon characters, chasing each other.
	"Howdy," I greeted him.
	"Bloody turtles," Leaf muttered. A glance at the TV reassured me he was complaining
about the video game and not seeing things.
	"How are you doing?" I asked.
	"Fine, I'm up five points over this turtle-throwing motherless- Damn! Make that two points."
	Leaf looked up, "How are you?"
	"Fine."
	"And Laura?"
	"Good, the last time I talked with her. So, you two...?"
	Leaf smiled and turned back to his video game, "Yeah, we did the couple thing for
a little while. I think about a month or two. Nice girl, but a bit career oriented for
my taste. I was a little too laid back for her. You get the idea."
	"Yeah."
	"So, we had some fun times, hung out a bit. Then she decided to `move on and grow'
as I think she put it."
	I sat down on the couch behind Leaf. He wasn't usually naked, and I preferred not to
sit next to him while he was.
	"Why'd you say that thing?"
	Leaf turned to look at me a moment and crashed his kart into a wall.
	"About the fruit tree?"
	"Ah, that," Leaf got himself back on track, "Look, man, I haven't seen Laura in,
like, a year. Don't listen to me. I was just surprised to see her."
	"Oh," I stood up and headed for the kitchen.
	"But I will tell you one thing. A word of friendly advice, if you don't mind?"
	I stopped with my hand on the fridge, "What?"
	Leaf dodged around a low-flying turtle, "Laura... Well, what I meant before
was, she's... She likes sex. I don't mean that in a slutty way and I'm not sayin'
anything against her. Okay? But I think you should be aware that she knows what she likes,
okay? You're not going to surprise her and I don't want her surprising you."
	"Why are you telling me this?"
	"I'm just trying to keep my favourite room mate informed. Surprised can be
rough for a relationship."
	"Like finding out your girlfriend used to date your room mate?"
	Leaf laughed and crossed the finish line for a win, "Yeah, like that. Sorry, man.
Hope that doesn't weird you out."
	"I'll live. Laura suggested we all hang out this weekend. You okay with that?"
	"You bet. It's been a while. Be good to see her again."
	"Leaf?"
	"Yeah?"
	"Why are you naked?"
	"Why do you have clothes on?"
	"I just came in from outside."
	"I didn't."


	The sound of a toilet flushing preceded Laura exiting our bathroom.
	"What is that humming noise?" she asked.
	Leaf looked up from where he was mixing batter in the kitchen, "Humming?"
	"Yeah, like a mechanical hum," Laura confirmed.
	"Oh," Leaf said, "That would be my fish tank."
	"You have fish?" I asked from the couch.
	"How long have you been living here?" Laura questioned me.
	Leaf shrugged, "I've got a couple of fish. Go take a look, if you want."
	I got up and opened his bedroom door, which, now that I thought about it,
had almost always been closed for the duration of my stay. Sure enough, along the far wall,
was a small fish tank. Inside were two goldfish and some sort of bottom dweller.
	"You never struck me as the pet owner type," I commented over my shoulder.
	"Usually, no, I'm not," Leaf acknowledged, "However, a buddy of mine wanted to
get rid of them. He figured he'd either stop feeding them and see how long they lasted,
or just flush 'em. Whichever happened before his next move. I volunteered to be their
savior. Or as much as a savior as I can be and keep them locked inside a small tank."
	"You softy," Laura teased.
	"It's very peaceful to watch fish," Leaf countered, "Keeps me mellow."
	"Like you need any help."
	I decided to head off the conversation at the pass, "Did you name them?"
	Leaf grinned like a little school boy that has a free Pull Pigtails pass, "You bet!
I call them Hawn and Snoop Fish."
	Laura made a face and stuck her tongue out.
	"Hawn? Why Hawn?" I inquired.
	"As in Goldie Hawn," Leaf explained.
	"And the bottom feeder?" I asked.
	"That's a pleco," Leaf informed me, "They eat algae. I call him Moo."
 	Laura looked closer at the dark algae eater, "Why Moo?"
	"He wanders around the bottom, eating green stuff. Reminded me of a cow.
Either of you guys have a watch?"
	"I do," Laura said.
	"Great, would you let me know when twenty-five minutes has passed?"
	"Sure, why?"
	"I'm baking!"

	What Leaf had been baking was brownies. Predictably, these were not your
average PTA meeting brownies. Or at least not the type of brownies one would serve
at a PTA meeting east of British Columbia. These brownies were chalk full of green goodness.
	"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?" Laura asked.
	Leaf shrugged, "I've never made these before and I thought we could use
something to celebrate with."
	"I've never tried magic brownies," I admitted.
	Leaf laughed, "These aren't magic, they just get you high."
	I laughed too.
	"You're been high before, right?" Leaf asked.
	"I flew out here, that was pretty high up," I joked, "Yeah,
I've smoked a few times. But brownies?"
	"Same stuff, just with more fiber," Leaf assured me.
	"Got milk?" Laura asked.


	We poured ourselves some milk, cut the brownies into squares and settled in on
the couch with some quiet music. Laura surprised me with her eagerness to participate.
	"I've never done this before," she giggled, "I want to see if it's really like the
trips you see in the movies."
	"Probably less V-W vans than you'd expect," Leaf dead-panned.
	"Cheers," I said and raised a brownie to my mouth.
	Leaf, admittedly, had consumed a few magic brownies, cookies, stirfries and pizzas
in his time, but never made any from scratch. He'd settled on a recipe he found and cut the
special ingredient by half.
	We munched slowly.
	"More milk?" I asked.
	I grabbed some more cow juice from the fridge and poured a round. Ten minutes passed and
nothing happened. We each had another brownie.
	"These are actually pretty good," Laura commented and we each had another.


	It is intersting to note, in hind-sight, that there are a number of factors involved in
how high a person gets off pot goodies. The amount of visible green material is not high ranking
on the list. The quantity of THC and the speed of consumption rank very close to the top of
the same list. A lesson we were about to learn.


	From my point of view, Leaf lived a life of mystery. Despite his occasional naked
one-man parties in our livingroom, I rarely got a glimpse into his life. Not that Leaf
was secretive, by any stretch, but he usually wouldn't volunteer information. As a result,
most days I didn't know where he went when he wasn't at home. I didn't know if he had a job.
I certainly never asked how he managed to pay for the apartment. Leaf, in a similar fashion,
didn't pry into my comings and goings any more than a "Hey, how was your day?" or a
"Do anything fun at work?"
	Looking back, I realize that I never knew how much rent was required for the apartment,
I only knew how much Leaf asked for each month to cover the bills.


	I think the drug hit my system first. The three of us were sitting on the couch with
Laura half on my lap and half leaning against the arm of the couch. Leaf was flipping through
a case of CDs, probably looking for something soothing. I felt a little dizzy.
	Laura said, "I don't feel anything. Are you sure you put enough in?"
	Leaf nodded and kept flipping.
	"I feel something," I replied and turned to look at Laura.
	Her eyes seemed more ... fluid than normal. More ... -- I had trouble focusing on
them -- wet. I turned away and blinked. The carpet looked closer that it should have.
	"You okay?" Laura asked.
	"Yeah, sure. I think it's kicking in," I tried looking into her brown eyes again
and had to look away.
	Leaf had found some music he liked and set the stereo to a soft level, "I feel
it a little too," he said.
	I was feeling a tad off balance. It was difficult to focus on any one thing. My
eyes didn't want to cooperate, so I let them unfocus.
	"I still don't feel anything," Laura announced.
	I glanced sideways at her. She looked really far away for some reason, but
I knew she was touching me. Somewhere. I was sure there was contact. Then my stomach turned
over. I tried to stand up and failed, due to Laura still being on top of me.
	"Excuse me," I said. She slid off and I got up carefully. Everything looked
far away.
	"You sure you're alright?" Leaf asked.
	I went to nod and realized I was still dizzy and so just said, "Yep. Just
going to ... the bathroom."
	The trip was a slow journey around the couch and down the hall. Nothing was quite
in the proper focus or in its proper place. Much like our government.
	I made it to the toilet, closed the door, peed and flushed. I sat down. Something told
me I'd be here for a while. The cool tile felt good.


	Then I got high.


	Or, perhaps, higher. I certainly lost track of time. At some point later in the
evening I became more aware of my surroundings for a while. At least enough to realize I
was lying on the bathroom floor. I was wearing a watch, but unable to make out what
time it was. I heard voices somewhere, probably in the livingroom. Probably Laura and
Leaf, I decided. Then my mind got interesting.
	Flashes of light, accompanied by a wave of pain hit my head. I tried to shut my
eyes and realized they were already shut. I felt like I was falling in a direction that
didn't exist or several directions all at once. It passed and I was able to breathe normally
again. It felt... not good, but better. I watched the little animal from Frogger jump,
pause and jump on his way to the river. A flying saucer shot at the little webbed footed
fellow. Then another wave hit and I lost track of time. It passed and I watched eagles
fly through space, laying exploding eggs and dropping poop on people's cars. And little golf 
balls bounced across my internal vision.
	How long had I been like this? How much longer was it going to last? Don't
panic, I told myself, it'll get processed out by the body eventually. I've probably
been out of it for a few hours. So I should be okay by-
	Another wave of pain hit and I lost conscience thought. I tried to breathe
slowly and wait for it to pass. It was easier this time, but far from pleasant. Okay,
so assuming this takes, maybe, six to eight hours to pass, I should be okay again
by morning. I hope.
	On the third flood of pain, I tried to ride it out. Surfing, as it were,
the high. It became easier. I saw God, or rather gods -- three of them -- and they all
looked very much like Pac-Man. It seemed they were in a heated debate concerning
gravity. One was in favour of turning off gravity and letting the Earth drift
off into the final frontier. The second figure purposed to increase gravity and
let the Earth fall into the sun. The last divine Pac thought it would be
interesting to wait and see if gravity still worked the same way tomorrow as it did
today or if it might completely reverse, causing people to explode like popcorn.
The other two thought that was a boring idea. I groaned. They'll eat us all, I thought.
I wondered if I looked like a pellet, rolled up on the floor. I tried to
stretch out.


	When I was more aware, I realized there were two people standing over me. I
couldn't see them clearly, but I was fairly sure neither was Laura, nor Leaf. Who were
they? They got me to stand up and move to the door. Where were we going? Then Leaf was beside me,
telling me it was okay. Telling me- Where were we going? Hospital. Someone said hospital.
maybe these people were para- para- para-troopers? No, pirouettes? Not quite. Para-somethings
were taking me to the hospital. That meant I was sick. I puked. It fell from my mouth in
a brown, slow-motion stream. It would have been cool to see, if it wasn't an indication I
was not well.


	I woke up in the hospital. Laura was sitting in a chair next to the bed.
	"Morning, sunshine," she greeted me. I felt like a million bucks -- of debt.
	"How am I doing?" I asked.
	"I was hoping you'd tell me," Laura replied.
	I took quick stock of myself, "I have a wicked headache."
	"And you probably will for a while. Would you like some water?"
	"Please."
	"The doctor said to keep you hydrated and wait it out. Apparently
this happens from time to time. Usually at Grateful Dead concerts."
	"When can I leave?"
	"Whenever you feel well enough. I warn you: I'm in no condition to
carry you myself."
	"Did you get sick too?"
	"I was a little out of it," Laura admitted, "but not nearly as badly
off as you were. Leaf was doing okay when we left."
	I winced, "Must have made a fool out of myself," I muttered.
	"Yep, you did. But we all did, a little, so you're in good company."
	"Leaf was right, there was no van."


	Infinity is a long time. A very long time. Most people find the task of
thinking in terms of time difficult, even in small amounts. Infinity is a very
large amount. How can one catch a glimpse of infinity? Well, imagine you're in
a grocery store, in the middle of summer, and the air conditioning doesn't work.
You're buying ice cream. Ahead of you in line are twenty people and there is
only one working cash register. Each person in front of you has dozens of items
and special coupons for each one. Most of them are traveling with screaming, crying
children who are obviously suffering from too much sugar and not enough sleep.
The cashier doesn't speak English well, at all, and every customer is paying using
pennies and insists on counting out the amount twice, just to make sure it's the
correct amount. This situation is to infinity as a single grain of sand is to a large
beach.


	Laura shared this perspective on time with me on our walk back to my home. I
got the impression she wasn't a patient person. But I liked listening to her talk, it
was easier than trying to think of something to say. I was still dizzy and occasionally saw
spots in front of my eyes. Laura's voice also distracted me from the thought of
the ambulance bill I was surely about to receive. Canada has universal health care,
if you're in the right place at the right time. People who aren't from "'round here"
pay through the nose.
	"So, where do you work?" I asked to keep her talking.
	Laura kicked an innocent rock, "I work for Spyglass Images, in their Human Resources
department," she answered.
	"So you keep an eye out for sexual harassment and pay people?" I asked softly. I didn't
want to wake the slumbering elephants who'd been learning how to tap dance behind my eyeballs.
	She gave me a sideways look, "No, I'm in charge of interviewing people. Basically, the
middle level in the hiring line."
	I waited.
	"The recruiter finds people, or they find the recruiter, then the applicant is turned
over to me. I tell them our wages, what sort of positions we're looking to fill and try to
figure out if they're actually going to be able to play the roll."
	"I see."
	"If all goes well, they're turned over to my boss, who gets them to sign the paperwork,
gives them a security pass, et cetra."
	"How did you land in this job?"
	"When I first came to Calgary I got signed on to a temp agency who asked if I
could fill a payroll position. I said I could, though I'd never touched payroll before
in my life. My second position was a one-month's stay at Spyglass Images and they decided to
hire me on when my time was up."
	"You must have made quite the impression."
	"I'm cute."
	"That you are. And you must have some funny stories about people trying to find work."
	"Not so much funny as tragic."
	"Tell me one."
	"Maybe later. Are you going to let us in?"
	I looked up. We were at my apartment.


	When we entered the apartment, Leaf was lying on the living room floor. The TV
was on, tuned to the Weather Network.
	"Leaf, you still alive, man?" I asked.
	Leaf gave an affirmative moan.
	"Good, I'd have trouble making rent without you."
	Leaf made another groaning sound.
	"Why are you watching the Weather Network?" Laura asked.
	"Because," Leaf replied, "it is ninety-nine per cent useless to ninety-nine per cent
of the population. Seriously, how many people need someone else to tell them what's going
on outside?"
	"And?"
	"And so it makes for the perfect background noise, because that's all it is, really,
is a constant supply of white noise. No need to change CDs or turn the channel. It's
all just numbers and pointless optimism. Did you know," Leaf inquired, sitting up,
"that the Weather Channel gets more viewers than just about any other? For telling
people what's going on outside their windows! It's amazing."
	Laura snorted, "So this steady supply of noise is a relaxation thing?"
	"Hey, I was worried. You two were away for a long time."
	"Grog," I announced and flopped into bed.


	My bed, as I called it, was really just a thick mattress on the floor. But it was
soft, and that's the important thing. Or at least that's how my head felt about the issue
when Leaf woke me. I don't think he'd entered the room since I moved in. There are
two common questions people ask when they are wakened from a deep sleep. I already
knew where I was, so I asked the other one: "What time is it?"
	Leaf, who never seemed to wear a watch, glanced pointedly at my alarm clock.
	"It's about three in the afternoon and it's still Sunday."
	"Good."
	"Want something to eat?" Leaf asked.
	"Sure. Where's Laura?"
	Leaf gave me a horrified look, "You want to eat her?"
	I pulled my pillow over my eyes, "No. Ug, I want eggs and
a sandwhich. Where is she?"
	"The fair lady said she had to run home to look over some
papers for work. Oh, and to have a shower. She'll likely be back in the
evening."
	I nodded.
	"How do you feel?" Leaf asked.
	"Basically, a little hung over. But I'll manage."
	"I'll get you some water," Leaf offered.
	"And a bit disoriented. You know, while I was out of it last night, I saw 
these three ... supreme beings who were debating what to do with gravity."
	Leaf paused at my door, "Three of them, you said?"
	"Yeah."
	"Big, round heads?"
	"Yes. How'd you know?"
	"Oh, they're always carrying on like that. Don't you worry, man, there's
no supreme being up there," Leaf pointed at the ceiling, "to mess with gravity. It's
all just talk."
	"You don't believe in a supreme being?" I asked.
	Leaf sighed and came back to sit at the foot of my b- mattress.
	"No," he said, "I don't."
	"Did you?"
	"Yeah, I did", Leaf acknowledged, "when I was younger."
	"What made you change your mind?"
	Leaf toyed with a loose thread on his t-shirt and composed his thoughts.
	"Well?"
	"When I was little, my family went to this United church down the street. A fairly
modern, God-loves-you type. Not the fire and damnation sort of group. Anyway, we had this
excellent preacher. Really, he knew how to get to people and make 'em feel better about
themselves and want to be good. I don't think he ever said a bad word against anyone. Not
that I heard."
	"Sounds nice."
	Leaf smiled, "It was certainly a good introduction to Christianity one-oh-one. So, one
day the preacher was asked after a service, by this little kid, why some people fear God. 
Honest enough question and he had an answer."
	I took a guess, "Because if you tick Him off, He can smite you good?"
	"Hmm, no. He said that people are like fish in an aquarium and God looks after
us. And no matter how much food and fresh water you give fish, most of them will
still panic and hide if they see you coming or if you shake the tank. God's just
looking out for us, but sometimes He surprises us or does things that seem
dangerous. That's why people are afraid of Him."
	"How did this make you lose faith?"
	Leaf stared at a patch of wall, just to the right of my window, "After his little
lesson I asked a question. Well, actually two questions. I asked: `Why doesn't God
let us swim free, rather than keep us trapped in this tank, filled with
disease and our own dirt and big fish who want to hurt us?' And, `Does this mean
when we die God sort of flushes us into Hell?'"
	"I bet that went over well."
	"He was speechless and my mother gave me a lecture afterward about never asking
silly questions in Church. The way I look at it, if Church is supposed to give us
the answers, shouldn't they be able to field the questions?"
	"And they couldn't?"
	"Not to my satisfaction. Now, I'm going to get you some water and
a sandwhich, otherwise Laura is going to think I've neglected you."


	The following day, I decided to surprise Laura. She'd been kind to
stay at the hospital with me and had made sure I was well taken care of. Well, Leaf's
version of scambled eggs aside, I'd been well cared for. So, just before my lunch
break I looked up the address for Spyglass Images, wrote it down and headed for
the door. It was only six blocks and I hoped we'd have enough time to have lunch together.


	I found the correct building and took the elevator up to the sixteenth floor.
I exited the bi-polar device and walked through the double glass doors, which had
a picture of a classic spyglass painted across them. A receptionist looked up when I entered.
She was dressed in a well fitting, navy blue suit. Her dark hair was pulled back and
revealed shiny gold earrings. I got the impression Spyglass Images paid their employees well.
	"May I help you?" she asked in a voice like dripping honey.
	"Yes, please," I said, "I'm here to see Laura."
	The receptionist waited, "... Laura?"
	Shoot. Laura um. Laura um. Sounds like- "Tencou," I supplied.
	"Do you have an appointment?"
	"No."
	"And your name is, sir?"
	"Peter. I'm her boyfriend?"
	The receptionist raised her eyebrows and looked me over, then gave
me a little smile.
	"Ah yes, Peter. She did mention a honsome young man in her life. Go on in, Peter.
Laura's office is to the left and down the hall. Take her out to lunch or something."
	"Exactly my plan," I agreed.
	I took the first left and started down the hall, glancing into open offices and
checking name plates. If I could just find something with "Laura" or "HR" I'd be
set.
	Two young ladies walked out of a room to my left and I quickly stepped around
them. It was only once I had passed by them that it occurred to me that one of them
had been wearing what looked like a naughty Catholic school girl uniform. The other
had been, unless I was mistaken, attired in a cheerleading outfit. I didn't dare look
back.
	Laura. Stay focused on finding Laura. The building isn't that big...
	A man and a woman came out of a room to my right.
	"Sunglasses," he was saying, "that was a good idea."
	She giggled, "Thanks. It's a lot sexier than swimming goggles."
	Neither of them looked like they were dressed for an office, in faded
blue jeans and tight t-shirts. I wondered what the sunglasses were for, as she
obviously wasn't carrying any.
	Almost to the end of the hall. Laura had to be here somew-
	Another pair of girls, these ones in more professional clothes, came out of
a room to my left.
	"All I'm saying," said the shorter one, "is if I, like, get spanked like
that again, I'm going to demand a raise or something."
	... What like what now?
	And then I found Laura's office. She was sitting behind her desk, looking
unhappily at a stack of papers in front of her.
	"Knock, knock," I greeted her and stepped into her office.
	Laura glanced up and her eyes widened.
	"Peter!"
	"Hey, Laura. I was wondering if you'd, I mean if you have time, join me for lunch."
	"Um," she pushed the papers to one side, "what are you doing here?"
	I glanced around, "I came to take you to lunch. Sort of a thank you for
taking care of me over the weekend."
	"Oh, um, okay."
	"By the way, what is with the people in this office?"
	Laura turned a notable shade of pink, "What do you mean?"
	"Well, it seems really casual, for one. The dress code, I mean. And
this girl next door to your office was talking about getting spanked for a raise
or something."
	"Let's talk about it over lunch."


	Spyglass Images (dot com), Laura explained to me over sushi, was the little
Canadian adult entertainment company that could. Started by a couple of guys in their
basement during the dot com explosion, it quickly proved a failure. The good news, such
as it was, came from the fact the two gentlemen hadn't gone into debt for their newborn
company. so while no fortune was made, they didn't lose their shirts either -- off camera.
Skip ahead a handful of years and the two fellows tried again, taking productions out
of the basement and renting office space downtown. This time they decided to venture into
debt and hunt down investors. This time they hired actors at agreeable wages and hired a
professional web designer. It was a hit or at least not a complete fizzle. The company eventually
broke even and expanded a little.
	"There's no script and no production cost," Laura observed, "it's all done over the
Net and it's completely dynamic. People pay to watch it happen live."
	"You work in porn?" I asked, still a bit off balance.
	"I work in Human Resources," Laura corrected me firmly.
	"It seems dirty somehow."


	"I can't believe my girlfriend works in porn," I moaned.
	"Well, she works with porn," Leaf pointed out from where he lay on the couch.
	"She hires girls to get stuffed on film."
	"Forfilling an administrative function," Leaf noted, opening a bag of Cheesies.
	"It's like she's trying to set back women's lib."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Don't you think porn objectifies women?" I demanded.
	"Sure," Leaf said and popped a Chessy into his mouth, "but not as much as it objectifies men."
	"I- Huh?"
	"The adult film industry puts women on display and dresses them up -- or undresses them, whatever --
as these willing, horny sex goddesses. Right?"
	"Yeah," I nodded slowly.
	"You see everything up close and personal. Laid bare, if you will."
	I stuck my tongue out at the pun.
	"But the men in porn. How much do you see of men in porn? Huh?"
	"Ah, it's been a while-"
	Leaf snorted and popped another Cheesy, "Like Hell it has. In case your memory has
gone selective on you, the parts you usually see on the men are the cock, the ass and the
chest. Rarely do you see a face. It happens sometimes, but its relatively rare."
	"O great porn master," I joked.
	"Look, my faux-pure grasshopper, in the world of pornography women are on display,
sure, objectified, if you will. But men are just there for their parts. Sex tools, as it were,
filling a role."
	"Funny."
	"And true," Leaf ate a handful of Cheesies.
	"That doesn't make me feel any better."
	"No? How about this. The porn industry is one of the biggest businesses in North America.
Why? Whenever a new technology comes out, it's used for sexual stimulation early on in its
development. Movies, telephones, instant messaging, video games-"
	"I get the idea."
	"Hey, man, people like to get off. I'm sure you do. And they will, one  way or another.
I think the questions you should ask yourself, before you go pointing fingers are: One,
given the options how would I prefer other people to get their thrills?"
	"And?"
	"And two, what's wrong with making a buck off people if no one is being
denied their right to conscent or reject?"
	I took the bag of Cheesies from Leaf and munched thoughtfully.
	"Plus," Lead added, "you're being a total hypocrite."
	"How's that? I'm not helping to make porn."
	"Not directly, no. But you've watched porn, right? You're part
of the demand they are supplying for. Besides, tell me, honestly, that
if, before today, Laura had brought home a naughty video for the two of you
to watch together you wouldn't have been thrilled."
	I closed my eyes, "You've made your point."
	"Yes I have."
	"Now, please, shut up."


	It was time for me to make a phone call. I paced around the apartment a little, trying to rehearse
what I would say. I watched Leaf's fish for a bit and decided they didn't calm me in the slightest. Drank
some water and paced some more. Eventually, shamed by my own indecisiveness, I picked up the phone and
dialed.
	"Laura Tencou here," her sweet voice crackled over the line.
	"Laura, it's Peter."
	Her voice remained neutral, "Hi Peter."
	"Look, Laura, I know that I made a bit of a fool of myself yesterday-"
	"Yep."
	"Wait, let me finish. I realize I was being silly and, so, I want to
apologize. It shouldn't matter to me what your job is, as long as you, you know,
enjoy it and it's safe and all."
	"Really?"
	"Yeah, I mean it took me by surprise is all."
	"And you're fine with my job?"
	"Yes," I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was starting to go better.
	"I'm glad to hear you say that, Peter."
	"Yeah-"
	"Because I agreed to play a small role in a production on Monday."
	"A? Small? Roll?"
	"Yep, it's probably not going to involve much. They said I'd probably just strip-n-go."
	"Go?" I repeated dumbly.
	"I was a little nervous about it, but I know the other actors who are in it. Heck,
I helped hire them! Isn't that cool?"
	Words, meaningful words, escaped me.
	"Peter?"
	"I thought you were `Human Resources'."
	Oops.
	"So, you're okay with me doing whatever job I want, as long as I'm just the H-R person."
	"I-"
	"But you've got a problem if I want to explore other jobs?"
	"Well-"
	"Peter, we've only been on a few dates. You're in no position to complain about what I
do for a living."
	"I know-"
	"So, what's the problem?" she demanded.
	I heard the apartment door open behind me. Great, just great.
	"I mean, you're a nice guy and all, but I'm drawing the line. Give me a call when you relax a little.
It shouldn't be hard with the company you keep."
	"But-"
	"And, for the record, I wasn't really offered the chance to `strip-n-go'."
	"You mean you're not going to be doing p-"
	That's right, I'll just be the good, little H-R girl. Good-bye."
	There was a digital click and the line went dead.
	"That didn't sound positive," Leaf observed.
	"It wasn't," I sighed.
	Leaf walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder, "I feel for you, man. Laura is a great
girl, but, well, she's not one to hold still."
	"Yeah."
	"Hey," Leaf attempted a grin, "let me take you out for some sushi. What d'ya say?"
	"Leaf, there isn't an ocean within a thousand kilometres of this city."
	Leafs grin stepped up a notch, "I know. Calgary's quirky that way, just like a woman. No
water, lots of fish."