Read t-shirts on your lunch hour, report back to me and don't bend down


This is what I did. I am re-writing a website for a really cool company that creates PoP Cards. I decided to break for lunch and instead of joining the others I chose to go it on my own.

I new I was ready for a challenging lunch hour. It would not involve eating, texting, drinking or jumping up and down in the middle of Crescent Street shouting "I'm bored and I want something stupid to do". For my new readers from Russia - Welcome - Crescent Street is in downtown Montreal. It is a busy place with plenty of bars and restaurants. Some have been there for a long time such as "Thursdays" which in the 70s was a really hot pick up joint. I am not saying this from experience because I was just a little tike when it was the place to be. However all of my former boyfriends as well as my husband were regulars. Back then they wore these funny, fake, silk shirts with terribly ugly patterns. They undid the buttons way too far down on their chests and they wore big, thick necklaces that sometimes spelled their names or initials just in case they become very inebriated and forgot who they were - To think I was just a kid and they were already sleeping with strangers - actually that's not a good thought.

Okay so no eating, no texting, no calling a friend, no shopping and no smiling. The deal I made with myself was to find as many people as I could that were walking around in t-shirts that said something. Then I would read them out loud, see how many people quickly moved away from me and then write them down in my notebook (which I carry everywhere with me - what's that you say ? - get an Ipad - get a life - I'm working on both actually).

I would then read all of them at once and come up with one great slogans I could then use on my clients site. Genius - I know.

It didn't take long to find my first subject. He was walking down Sherbrooke Street. He was lovely to look at - blond hair, great body, a tatt on his right arm over his biceps, and he was wearing a shirt that said "I think I love you" So I honoured my pledge and shouted out to the entire street "I think I love you"

The funny thing is that only one person turned around to see who was shouting. She was around 50 yrs of age, wearing a bonnet (no really I think she was visiting from Amish Country - not that there is anything wrong with that in fact I hope to have Amish readers and I'll be checking my stats after this post because ya never know)and she turned to me and asked "Are you alright?" to which I responded "Are you Amish?" She didn't respond which led me to believe that perhaps she was and so I wanted to pursue her and ask her to please recruit some Amish readers but she pretty much ran away.

The next shirt I read (on a little kid) said "I'm not lost so don't call my mother" That took up the front and back of his shirt which proved to be extra tricky because I have to shout out (according to the rules) as I read so I saw his back first and then his front so I yelled out "So don't call my mother" "I'm not lost"

This resulted in his mother grabbing his hand and switching sides of the street as in the opposite side from me.

I was getting tired. For my readers in Nigeria, we are having an "Indian Summer" (an expression I don't understand and I hope is not racist because I am not)here in Montreal. It's been really warm and sunny however you probably would find it chilly compared to the heat you are accustomed to - we should talk weather sometime or pie cause I always wondered if you eat pie in Nigeria? Cherry pie in particular?

I decided to read two more shirts and then call it a lunch hour. After all I still had to walk back to the office and complete my fascinating project.

Second to last shirt - "If you can find me, you can find yourself" What the hell does that mean? - actually that should be printed on the back of the shirt.

Last shirt - "I have a secret - bend down" No really, this is what the shirt said.

There I was on the front steps of the building with 8 minutes left to go.

The words were staring me in the face and then it came to me, the perfect multi-tshirt-lunch-reading slogan:

Love is not a secret. Our mothers are love. You are love. I am love. Sometimes its bent and often its broken but despite all of that it clears the path for me to find you and in finding you, I find myself. And at that very moment I don't think that I love you, I know that I do.