Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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by Paul
Rated: E · Fiction · Comedy · #1821758
Part three of the story of Jake and his City Hall colleagues.
It is amazing, another week gone by, and my stupid annoying co-workers have not been overly-annoying, for a change.

John has not been around for a while. The doughnut shops must not be that busy lately.

Judy was unusually bubbly today. The pain in the ass that she is.

Our temps, James and Jannet have been temporarily assigned to another department, so those two are out of my hair for a while.

The Mayor is on vacation this week. Well, he is officially on vacation. He is actually on vacation every week, but...

Since the Mayor is away, I thought I'd venture out of the office and see what kind of life exists outside the walls of City Hall.

I decided to walk over to Osgoode Station. While walking down the stairs to the mezzanine, there was a very unpleasant smell emanating from the bottom of the stairs. It was a combination of rotten food, urine and bad perfume. Oh, yeah, that's a typical subway station smell!

I have a pass that is supposed to "swipe" through any of the turnstiles. Of course, mine doesn't. I have to wait in line at the booth. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother buying this stupid pass.

Upon entering the platform, there was an announcement, "Attention all passengers on the Yonge-University-Spadina Line...we are currently experiencing a delay both ways at our Ossington station due to a power-off situation. We are sorry for the inconvenience..."

You are not sorry. The Toronto Transit Commission is never sorry for anything. All they care about is raising the fare. Anyway, that's enough about the TTC, for now.

As I walked close to the platform, I noticed that they were not letting anyone in. Oh, so this is why I am paying for a pass, so I can wait in line and then not be able to use the service I pay for? OK, now that is all the ranting I am going to do about the TTC, for now.

I decided to leave the station and walk up to the next one. I don't know why I did that, there is still no stupid service!

After what seemed to be about five hours, a subway train finally came rumbling through the station.

At this point, I was getting pissed off and decided to go home for a while. I won't be missed at work. Nobody cares about me or what I do there anyway.

I rent a small apartment in the attic of a house on Glenlake Avenue, in the area of Toronto known as the Junction. I will give you two guesses as to why this area is called the Junction. Yeah, real creative naming here in the Toronto area.

When I finally arrived at the Dundas West Station on this stupid so-called transit system, I had to transfer onto a bus. Well, not really, I could have walked, but I did not feel like it.

I hopped on the Number Fourty bus, but instead of going just to Glenlake Avenue, I wanted to ride it all the way to the end.

This route ends at a loop near Dundas Street and Runnymede Road. I have never been to this area before, so I decided to take a walk. I believe this area is called Stockyards. It used to be a giant livestock farm. Once again, more of Toronto's creative naming.

While I was wandering around the area, I noticed a small sign on the side of a small building, "Stockyards Boxing Gym".

Boxing gym? Hmmmm..? I wonder if I should have a look?

Walking closer to the building, it looked like it was closed.

I pounded on the door.

After about a minute, this real big guy came to the door, and looked at me through the small window.

The door creaked open, "Yes?", he said.

Confused at what to say at that point, I said the first thing that came to mind, "Ummm, I'm from City Hall. I am here to inspect this building. I need to come inside."

He looked at me with surprise, and then said, "You mean you are interested in joining, and would like to look around?"

Puzzled, I said, "Ahh, Yeah. That's what I meant."

"Sure", he said happily, and invitingly opened the door.

At first glance, the room looked very small and cluttered. There were a series of heavy bags along the far wall. Along another wall were some weight-lifting equipment and a treadmill. In the middle of the room was a ring. Another wall had a little desk with a computer on it with a pair of boxing gloves hanging above. Just to the right of the desk was a speed bag, and to the left, a small cubbyhole with some lockers and a washroom and changeroom.

"This is it.", the man said, "My name is Jeremy, by the way, Coach Jeremy."

"Oh, hi", I said.

"I am a retired professional boxer", Jeremy went on, "I have been boxing for about ten years, and I still step into the ring for exhibitions some times."

I found this interesting, since he looked much older than I. If he can do it, why can't I?

I was stumbling for the proper words, trying to not sound like an idiot, "Yeah, you know, I'm just trying to find a place to get some exercise..."I was trying to not sound so desperate to want to box again"...maybe do a bit of sparring...for exercise...nothing serious..."

Jeremy seemed very interested, "Well, you know this is a fairly new facility, and I am trying to build a new team. If you are interested in being on our boxing team, I can train you to be a boxer."

Wow! I had a hard time keeping my excitement in. My eyes became very wide, as I was pleasantly surprised that he was offering this.

"Oh", I said trying to not sound too enthusiastic, "It is something worth considering, I guess."

Jeremy smiled, sensing my not-so-well hidden enthusiasm, "Fourty-nine."

"What?", I said, not really understanding what he meant.

"My fee", Jeremy said, "I charge fourty-nine dollars a month to train here, and that includes some one-on-one training...if you are interested in being on the team, that is."


Disclaimer: Please note that any reference to any real locations in this story is intended to keep this story as true to life as possible, but any description, characters and text involved with said locations are fictional.
© Copyright 2011 Paul (paulbrec at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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