Ed Sundukovsky shares stories from Toronto’s West End
Coming home from work is easily the best part of my entire day. At not a second past five, I’ve already got my apron and whites off and I’m out the door with key and coat in hand. I jump into the whip and back out onto a one way street, hitting the gas and peeling out a bit. I might have looked cool, except that I’m driving a minivan. I’m in a hurry because Kris is waiting for me on the corner outside of her work. I can’t wait to see her either.
I fight my way across Wellesley, inching along while the seconds tick by. Cyclists zip by on their fixed gear bikes, laughing while they pass me easily. “Fools!” they exclaim at the cars while they fly ahead. Naturally, I hit every red light on my way, but I can make her out waiting for me off in the distance. When I pull up to her, I’m always surprised at how great she still looks after an eight hour day. She gets in and we get going.
