Four months after moving in with my boyfriend, I never expected to be left alone, tending to his pregnant dog. He bought Cadence, a golden Labrador Retriever, on a breeding contract, meaning any heat, the breeders may summon her to Gilead to partake in the Ceremony.
Dating is tough in Calgary when you’re female, nearly 30 and a pipeline protester.
Whereas I was once fluttering my eyelashes, preaching Naomi Klein over kombucha in an East Vancouver juice bar, I am now trying not to choke in a Calgary pub when my Tinder date breaks the news to me that climate change isn’t real.
Please, don’t raise your voice and call me stupid when I bring you your lettuce wraps sans cashews.
Yes, I know you’re allergic to peanuts, not nut-nuts, but listen lady – okay, I get it, you were really looking forward to your cashews – but out of an abundance of caution the kitchen neglected putting them on your plate for reasons of cross-contamination, which, I would argue, meets the standard of a reasonably prudent establishment guarding against a civil lawsuit for your allergic reaction (gasp for air) …
Trust me, you do not want to wake the dragon, the fire-breathing litigator inside me, your 5-foot-1-inch server.