Parkdale stole my saddle

My initiation into Parkdale life and culture began two nights ago when my bicycle saddle was stolen by a thief roaming Queen St W. It seems the cyclaphobe also had an interest in my front wheel, but thankfully didn't take that as well, for whatever reason. Biking home without a seat was tiring at 2:30 in the morning; walking a seatless, one wheeled bike all the way back to Lansdowne and Bloor would have been worse.

The next day at work, Madison informed me that his and Air's bikes had been vandalized/damaged while we were all drinking at the Beaver. Madison's chain had been derailed and Air's tire had been slashed/deflated. Bike vandals suck.

Now, about the Beaver. You should go. There are local and regional beers on tap; $13 for a pitcher of any of them. You can eat a delicious bowl of fruit, yogurt, and granola costing $4.95 for breakfast, or have a simple side of bread and olives at the same cost later in the day. The staff are low key and friendly enough. Artists like the place, and the crowd is social and interesting.