At Queen and Bathurst, a bunch of young rockers are loading equipment out of The Reverb/Holy Joe's into U-Haul trucks.
Across the street, a frazzled-looking street man, approximately in his mid-50s, balding with a fringe of ginger-coloured hair, is standing and projecting like Pavarotti trying to hit a high C.
Except what's coming out is a very loud: “Gleeeecckkk!! Ack, ack, ack!!” Or sounds to that effect (I wasn't taking notes).
Some other fellow, bearded, with a fisherman's cap and camel-coloured coat, but otherwise equally streety, loudly and unsympathetically muttered – to no one in particular: “Geez, if I yelled like that, they'd throw me in the fuckin' mental hospital!”
The young rockers just grinned and kept on loading.