Those who had assembled filed out of the doorway single file. Shivering and shaking, as they each in turn hit the chill Canadian air. With the haven of the home behind them, the group of five shifted smoothly into a wide-end-first trapezoid traversing the British Colombia pavement. The trio in front walked with chests abreast, their voices clear to whomever was willing to spare an ear. They spoke of scholarly matters and on the joke so cruel that could be called nothing but the weather.

“No fools would venture out in this,” mused the strong and tall male figurehead, “without a need most dire”.

The wiry Weasel of a boy to his left was quick in his retort with a
narrow sighted quip. “So if you consider it so ill-advised to gallivant outside, why
may I ask, are we freezing to our cores just to visit her?!”.

“You’d be well advised to hear that sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. You wish to get your fix of her as much as anyone of us here, and of course we could not meet her inside my home,” sighed the only remaining member of the front who had yet to speak. “My folks would not appreciate that little visit”.

The two thick thugs that together formed the back end snorted and snickered at the exchange.

“You imbeciles be silent! I stand by my comment, it’s almost not a worthy endeavour…” sneered the Weasel.

Confident as always, the Alpha male spoke before those bringing up the rear could process and react to the Weasel’s derogatory comment and command. “You must be aware Weasel, that you are here by your own choice. If you were to have refrained from joining us, we would have missed your little jokes but shed not a tear. For the absence of your mirth would soon be redeemed by the reduction of what we must share.”

“Can we all not get along for a mere moment? For we are here!” declared a joyful Casanova, his powerful calves propelling him fluidly to the front of the posse. “I told you fools that the park wasn’t far”. He juked swiftly in order to protect his pretty face from Thug #1’s playfully swung knuckles.

And so they came to stand beside a bench in the 20×20 ft. cobbled square found between Vancouver’s world class sky scrapers. The plaza held solely three groomed trees and two wooden benches placed strategically along a brick path that wound through the manicured green grass. The city’s impending twilight provided a subtle hum of white noise that sifted to the group’s ears as each took in their surroundings. As everyone picked a potential path to exit by, the trees swayed in the cold wind. Perhaps their positioning was an example of Feng Shui in play, but the transference of the flow of energy was (for the most part,) lost on this lot.

Forming a tight circle, each shuddered within their respective shell. The brutes of the pack clicked their claws within their black hoodies’ front pouches, seemingly fumbling in attempts to locate items. The three others shifted and shuffled restlessly, the sound of a sky blue wool cardigan scratching against itself was enough to overpower the whispered rubbing of a quality leather jacket. Only the Weasel’s attire stood out drastically from his surrounding. He had dressed in a synthetic based jacket dyed in a violent cacophony of vibrant lime green arrogantly plastered next to unbridled electric orange.

The young men made little small talk for the next handful of minutes, choosing instead to delight themselves by inhaling deep, one by one, and observing their expelled breaths float up in the crisp night air; there were however, unprompted (seemingly random) comments on age old explorers. “Marco,” and then “Pollo,” each had their names mentioned.

The frequent passersby seemed inclined to stare, if fleetingly, at the particular assembly before them. Skunks had made their presence known in the general location and the scent coupled with the group’s demeanor made more than one potential passerby palpably put out.

Thug #2 decided that everybody would enjoy some music, and within moments his thumbs coaxed his iPhone’s powerful speakers to offer up their rendition of Jay-Z to the heavens along with the continued puffs of exhale the gang seemed to mechanically produce. The sudden accompaniment of the loud music pleased the boys greatly. It garnered several grunts of approval, along with an absent-minded comment of “good song…”.

Several minutes had passed and the five fools found themselves all in a pleasant disposition when the suggestion was made to return home. Teasing and joking, giggling and generally having a gay time, the boys made their way home at a noticeably more relaxed pace.

Romeo was amused with admiring the plenty of pretty ladies that had chose to make his way home part of their evening adventure while Alpha enjoyed showing off with his balancing act along the curb. The Weasel smiled as his Sony headphones cut him off from the riff-raff of the real world. Bob Marley serenaded him with “Buffalo Soldier” and Sublime spoke of good things coming in two.

The pair of thugs didn’t think it’d be cool to break the silence, preferring instead to absentmindedly leave their jaws to hang slightly agape. The great caverns within each of their well padded skulls were filled with fantastic fancies of flying fighter jets. #2 mimed a gunner aiming while mouthing the rattling machine gun’s sputter. #1 simply saw himself sailing through the trees along the street.

The crew neared the Ladies man’s home, slowing in front of the door. The Weasel chuckled. “A glass of water would be AMAZING right now” mused Casanova, sending a subliminal hint that now was the time to go.

After a moment of answering silence, the figurehead’s convenient confession of “I need my notebook,” was voiced and so the number entering the home grew. The would be aviators caught each others narrowed and bloodshot eyes and nodded an agreement. “Food,” which undoubtedly meant Fresh Slice.. They were off after quick series of props, leaving the Weasel to mumble some incoherent excuse as he set his sights on the closest bus stop.

This is how the fellowship born for a mission to visit a maiden went their various ways. A pair to get munchies, a deuce to play video games, and a lone teenager that focused without drive exclusively on his tunes.

Writer: Blake Rupert

It’s dark, it’s cold, and you have no way to get home. The buses have stopped running and you find yourself stranded at Phibbs at some un-godly hour. Sound like a stretch? Well, surprise! It’s not. We have all come face to face with the horrors of inefficient transportation. Whether it’s a missed connection or the usual after school traffic, the District of North Vancouver could benefit from a new approach to these issues.

Stories about the transit system often echo throughout the crowded halls: the myriad of problems that inconvenience us are constant topics of discussion. The key thing is that we are now at the point where we can no longer depend on our parents to get us everywhere, so we need a system that can get us from point A to point B without fail. In other words, we need our transit to be more efficient, more frequent, and more accessible.

Now obviously the changes could not occur overnight; however, here are a couple of things to consider. Creating new routes or adding more bus stops where necessary, would make the system more accessible for people immediately. Often, the distance between someone’s house and the nearest bus stop is a huge factor in whether or not they decide to take public transit. It sounds lazy, but that’s the way it is. The frequency of the buses and the wait times involved are also a common concern among transit folk. Waiting half an hour for the next bus is bad enough, but the climate we live in (to say a temperate rain-forest would be an understatement) exacerbates the miserable, damp wait. Having more buses running at peak hours would reduce wait times considerably and leave people with a more favourable view of the system. With only 10% of our community using public transit, these changes could be pivotal in altering the public opinion.

While motor vehicles account for most travels, there are other ways to get around the district that don’t involve fossil fuels. The most common would be walking. While it is seldom a problem during the day, once night falls, the pathways become dark and at times, dangerous. It is very unnerving to walk through a dark path with no knowledge of what lies beyond the street light’s glare. We would like to see better lit trails in our neighbourhoods so people feel safe walking home.

For daytime travel, we also need to accommodate the needs of the cyclist. Some will bravely take their chances on the road but they shouldn’t have to ride in danger. Even though cyclists are a minority, with only 1% using bicycles as their means of transportation, their safety is incredibly important. If they were provided with bike lanes on some of the busier roads, it would protect them from the traffic on our streets. In order to encourage more people to use these alternative transportation options, we need to improve them.

Transportation is a huge part of our everyday lives; we find ourselves constantly on the move and looking for a way to get anywhere. Having a dependable transportation system is critical to sustaining a happy and involved community. So if a few changes are all it takes, why not give it a try?

So that’s our take. What’s yours?

Hanger (noun) To feel increased anger or irritability from being hungry. This may result in arguments with friends, yelling on transit, stealing other peoples lunches, etc. There is only one cure: FOOD!

The pit of my stomach groaned as I watched the clock hit 11:35. Lunch time was less than half an hour away, but it wasn’t nearly soon enough. Peering over my shoulder, I saw that the woman seated behind me on the skytrain had noticed the sound and was giving me an odd look. She probably hadn’t realized it was a hunger pain, but I felt incredibly irritated by the look she was giving me. Who gave her the right to judge a sound coming from a stranger on the skytrain? I knew I was probably overreacting but this irritation towards her grew as the sounds coming from my stomach got louder. They started to overpower even the escaping headphone sounds of the man sitting across from me. It felt like something was slowly eating its way through the side of my abdomen as we approached my stop. I don’t know if I’d be able to wait the potential ten minutes it would take her to get to where I was.

As the skytrain stopped the woman who had increasingly given me dirty looks got up to wait by the door. I made my move quick to make sure I would get off the skytrain before her. If she thought those sounds were something else, then I was sure giving her a scare by standing in front of her. So as the skytrain door opened, I may have budged slightly to take a look back at her scowling face before jogging towards the stairs leading to Granville Street. There were so many choices there, so that no one else would have to suffer through my Hanger.

(Click the item names for the links to buy them!)

• Etsy Finds of the Week: Camera Necklace, Boy Friend Cardigan, Mermaid Skeleton Shirt
• Threadless Find of the Week: Art Not War
• Zombie Shirts of the Week: Zombie Donkey, I Love You to Death
• For those of you who want to embrace your NERDY side: Han Solo Necklace, Noose Tie, It’s a Bottle Jim