Sunday Best by Edward O. Phillips

Author:Edward O. Phillips [Phillips, Edward O.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Humour, Gay Men, Montreal (Que.)
Publisher: ReQueered Tales
Published: 1990-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

11.

AN OPPORTUNITY AROSE FOR ME to go to Toronto to clear up some business for the office, and I jumped at the chance. Ordinarily my reluctance to visit that metropolis springs not from negative feelings for Toronto itself, for it is a city I enjoy, but from the obligation I am under to see certain people who live there – my sister, for instance. Should she get wind that I am planning a visit, she will telephone long distance to inquire what night I am coming to dinner. I know perfectly well she doesn’t much want to see me, a feeling reciprocated with compound interest; but her code demands we meet whenever geography permits, like heads of state whose military alignment cannot totally conceal their economic rivalry.

Toronto also harbours a friend from childhood, one of those sentimental barnacles that attach themselves to our lives and cannot be scraped loose. Larry, or Lawrence Townsend II, has never outgrown the idea that he was put on this earth to have a good time, all very well. Now in his late fifties, he still thinks of good times as those he enjoyed at twenty-five, as evidence of which he wants to turn my Toronto visits into three-day drunks. The result is that I find myself sneaking in and out of the city, coat collar turned up, hat brim pulled down, like one of the ten most wanted men. I walk the streets in fear, lest I bump into someone at Bay and Bloor who will betray my unheralded presence and earn me a dressing down on the long-distance phone.

On this weekend, however, I would be able to stride along University Avenue with head held high. Having so recently endured my sister over Sunday dinner at Mother’s, I was under no obligation to see her, telephone her, or even be obliged to offer an excuse as to why I did not. Furthermore, Larry Townsend was spending two weeks in Nassau, ostensibly soaking up sunshine and rum, and, I strongly suspect, getting the lay of the land. I do not know whether it is better in the Bahamas, as the ads suggest; but if anyone can find out for certain, it is Larry. I only hope he is being careful.

The result was that I could enjoy the luxury of a weekend in Toronto, first-class hotel with reduced rates, and no obligations beyond those of a little business I could easily mop up on Friday afternoon.

Perhaps the reason I have always enjoyed Toronto is that I do not waste time comparing it with Montreal. The two cities are as different as chalk and cheese, to borrow a threadbare analogy; although having once tasted chalk as a child, to the teacher’s predictable and boring dismay, I am not certain I don’t prefer it to that goat’s milk cheese with which Greek restaurants encumber salads. For comparisons with Toronto one should look to major American cities, Chicago, or Houston. Montreal is less a city than a cluster of neighbourhoods.

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