The Engineers

Our local was the Cameron House, my sister and I. It was our vibe – Queen West bohemian artsy. For awhile the place flew under the radar and we could enjoy the coziness of being with people like us. There were never any problems being misunderstood. And then the Cameron became ‘known’ and the ‘others’ arrived. We were enjoying a beer one evening when four engineers suddenly mobbed us, wanting to talk about art and literature. They tossed the names ‘Picasso’ and ‘Hemmingway’ about liberally. I think they were the only examples of an artist or a writer that they knew.