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March 25, 2013 / Andee Frizzell

For Your Eyes Only

arrowMy parents were heading south for the winter. Like many Canadian retiree’s, they pack up their motor home and head for Arizona to wait out the Canadian winter AKA hell frozen over. On their way through BC, we met up at Harrison Hotsprings for a week of family vacationing. Our family vacations consist of hiking, soaking in the RV park jacuzzi and consuming gallons of beer around the fire pit.

On this last family vacation I had  my Iphone camera and I took a lot of great pictures of us.  So for their respective birthdays, I decided to get commemorative mugs made. In theory, this should have been an easily accomplished task, it was anything but.

The first challenge was to find a place, in Toronto, a city new to me that could imprint photos onto coffee mugs. (For those of you reading this from the west coast, London Drugs doesn’t exist out here! Warning!)

I finally found Black’s Photography on Dundas and Yonge St. (This cross street has the most congested pedestrian crosswalk EVER, important fact to remember for later in the story)

I found the computer workstations easily enough as there were five of them; computers with massive monitors perched upon talltop tables which faced the busy street. These were not the workstations of my grade school detention. With the barstools placed side by side and the Gravitron sized monitors projecting your attempt at arts and crafts to the population at large, there was absolutely no privacy.

I’ll admit this fact frightened me; there are two things in the world that can unleash my inner Tourettes, computers and do it yourself crafts. I comforted myself in the fact that anonymity was on my side.

I went to the only available station, wedged myself apologetically between someone building a collage of President Obama’s face with micro photos and someone creating a 3D self portrait to be embroidered onto a pillowcase.

I plugged my phone into the terminal and went about ‘shedding my outer layers’. Having arrived here in the winter, I now wear everything I own in a single outing. I was peeling off my scarf, toque, mitts, long woolen coat and a second outer sweater when I heard a collective gasp. Thinking I must have flashed someone while removing sweater number two, I looked up apologetically.

And that’s when I saw my monitor screen. When I plugged my phone into the terminal, it automatically opened my photo album to the last saved photo.

For Valentine’s Day the week before, my friend Steve (real practical joker) had sent me a photo he uploaded from the internet.

It was a picture of a man’s unkempt undercarriage (his balls) tucked between his inner thighs to look like a heart. The caption below read, ‘I heart you.’

Ain’t LOVE grand?


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