Advice from Saskatchewan’s favourite hipster
Bonus Column | by Chiron Batchlett
Dear Chiron: I don’t remember letting you borrow my car but since you did, could you at least explain these weird stains? —Ted (Your Landlord)
Memory problems are the worst. If you can’t remember letting me borrow your car last Saturday night, it’s probably because you have too much on your mind. Just let go of the things that stress you out — for example, those stains in your car and all the wasps they’re attracting. Those stains will dry and the wasps will all be gone by October, so you’ve only got a few months of wasp-filled driving and then it’s back to normal. Sounds like a good deal to me.
P.S.: The stains are from a new artisanal food product I’m testing called a Taquito Slushee.
Dear Chiron: Where is June and July’s rent? You’re not answering your phone and this column is the only place I know I can reach you. —Ted (Your Landlord)
Sometimes in life we lose things and can’t seem to find them again. If we’re not careful, our whole existence turns into a quest to recover that lost thing. Maybe the key to happiness is giving up on that quest? For example, I lost several hundred dollars of my grandmother’s money at the casino one night. I tried to get it back, but the manager was extremely rude to me when I explained that the money belonged to my grandmother and she needed it for her heart medicine. I even showed him a picture of Gran-gran and he didn’t care. Imagine that, Ted. Imagine being so cruel and cold that even a picture of my grandmother, like the one I slid under your door yesterday, doesn’t move your heart. Think of her sitting alone in her living room, a cup of tea in her hands, a crossword puzzle on her lap and a picture of her favourite grandson on the wall. You can contact her about the rent. Her phone number is on the back of the picture.
Dear Chiron: I have a problem with a friend and I hope you can help. He likes to invite everyone out to the newest restaurants and bars but when the bill comes he just gets up and leaves and no one sees him for days. We’ve tried talking to him about this bad habit but he starts crying every time. He claims that his business is still getting off the ground and once it takes off we’ll all reap the benefits. Then he offers to treat us to dinner, but either stiffs us on the bill (again) or tries to sell us his disgusting mustard-mayonnaise mix. This guy is you. —Ted (Your Friend And Landlord)
Ted, you know how much I appreciate you as a friend, a landlord and an investor in my Mustardaise business. Without you there would be no Chiron’s Mustardaise, the artisanal condiment CJ Katz once tried on a sandwich. You can’t buy that kind of publicity! But most publicity you do have to buy, which is why I need some cash for my advertising budget. I swear to you on my grandmother’s heart, Ted: help me out on this and you’ll get triple your investment back. In the meantime, though, let me make it up to you. Drinks tonight? It’ll be my treat.
Fax Chiron Batchlett your questions at 306-352-9686 and they might be answered in an upcoming Chironqueries. Probably not though.