{breakfasts is peoples too}

i live in one of those neighbourhoods. they call it 'the cathedral village', and it's full of cute little shops owned by hipsters who only work when they feel like it and will often throw customer service to the wind if they deem you unworthy of it. i have many stories of being kicked out of change rooms for no reason, being served only half of what i ordered {because the barista's shift ended right in the middle of pouring my drink}, and being told, "we're not serving coffee right now--it's too busy," at an eerily quiet coffee shop.

these modern-day hippies really know how to run a business.

despite the obvious feelings of resentment i might be storing up towards certain establishments in the village, i often wander it. if nothing else, there is always something to look at.

they call them "art installations."

giant metal ants up in the trees, quotes about peace tied to strings dangling from street signs, 20 hats perched randomly on a park bench, giant paper mache models of caterpillars and cocoons and butterflies on the library lawn. it's as if there's a committee which wanders the streets, making and naming messes as they go along. i'm sure there are political statements and profound life lessons and awarenesses being raised in each installation, but they are almost always impossible for us lowly average citizens to make out.

nonetheless, the idea intrigues me.

this morning, barclay came into the dining room and found his wife drawing on the eggs and arranging the bacon.
"why are you drawing on the eggs and arranging the bacon?" he asked.
"it's an art installation," i said. "it's called breakfasts is peoples too."

you know, to raise awareness.