By Kirk Verner
July 4th/2009 11:14 p.m.
The 60C bus rattles loudly down Yonge Street as I sit in a scotch induced haze; I’m heading home after a long night in the studio. I’m sitting in the back half of the bus, staring at a middle-aged Asian man with a curly, black mullet and a brown leather jacket. He seems suspicious to my keen sense for the unusual. He nibbles at his fingernails; a hideous habit he seems to have a problem with. I simply continue to watch the man, I guess trying to make him feel even more uncomfortable than he already appears.
