I don't really remember why, but one day I was walking along Bloor St with my friend, E. We were right out in front of Sonic Boom, which is one of my favourite record stores ever. We were just walking along, talking, and for some reason I said "Well, I guess that's why they say 'money is the root of all evil.'"
Now the astute among you will notice that that quote is incorrect. Please, kindly hold your horses. I'm getting there.
So we're walking along, minding our own business and I make this sort of offhanded comment. All of a sudden a large, hairy, scraggly man comes whirling out of a doorway onto the sidewalk. Now E is pretty tall, and this guy, as I recall, is very nearly as tall, but much broader. He looks a bit like Hagrid from Harry Potter — wild hair and beard, long scruffy coat. So this enormous, feral, presumably homeless guy comes spinning out of the doorway, finger pointed indignantly in the air and yells, "No! The love of money is the rrrroot of all evil!" rolling his R, even. After correcting me he spins around just as quickly as he'd spun in front of us and stumps off angrily down Bloor St.
These days, I always carry a dictionary of quotes whenever I'm going anywhere there might be homeless people — I hate being caught unprepared.
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