Latest obsession: dirt bags

During our recent house hunt, financial constraints limited our search to up-and-coming neighbourhoods as opposed to established ones that had been cleaned up and made desirable by artists, who were then sent packing to deacidify the next rough neighbourhood.

Because Joe and I are cautious home buyers, we tried to find neighbourhoods that were clearly on their way to gentrification. The biggest clue was a yoga or pilates studio side by side with a dirt bag establishment, and the key to identifying a dirt bag establishment was the grouping of working age adults standing outside in the middle of a weekday.

I have become fascinated with the dirt bag's communion with the great outdoors. Not only do they insist on standing outside, regardless of the time or weather, but they are also frequently seen riding around on SuperCycle bicycles. One can only speculate where they are so determined to get to since the only other time I see them is hanging around outside of taverns or greasy diners.

A crass individual would guess that the dirt bag is riding a bike because his DUI charge won't allow him to drive and he spent his cash advance at the tavern last night thus barring out public transit as an option so he is using his friend's bike to get to court on time. That crass individual might be me.