Where The Beast's Rule

Where The Beasts Rule

In the civilized city we call Toronto, with many areas of learning and culture, there is a building on Sherbourne St. It is a large 31/2 storey brick structure of no special design but a dark purpose. It is there you will find the real animals of the city. The beasts of addiction, thievery, and laziness. Where the keepers are controlled by the dealers. Where only rules of convenience exist. Let’s take a tour shall we.

   At the north corner of the building is a gate where you are buzzed in to get to the hostel area, provided you can first push your way through the drug dealers to push the button for admittance. And even then you have to wait for the staff to figure out which of the three buttons will open the gate. Now enter the alley dark, windy and rank with the smell of urine. The first pack we encounter are the crack heads, at this point you should not lend your lighter to anyone. And please if it amuses you keep track of how often you are asked for stuff like money, cigarettes or drugs. Once past the crack heads we come to the pot heads. All standing in a circle passing around a joint, while the pill poppers sit around the edges either in a perpetual daze or mumbling away to themselves. This is a quiet day for we have yet to see the drug induced ranter, incoherent but often amusing. Just don’t engage them in conversation, they can become hostile. As we approach the second buzz in point we encounter a flock of friendly cigarette smokers joking, chatting and grumbling away their time. At this point the staff decide to play tap the button to see if you are fast enough to open the door, but only after they are done playing on their cell phone or the computer. If you’re really lucky you get nothing more than a contemptuous glare. We have all heard the expression “looking down your nose at someone”. Here is the place to experience said expression, for the staff are masters of looking down on people. If you look on the wall of this area you will see the rules.

No drugs

No alcohol

No violence

No sleeping on the floor

And general rules of respect, but no such word exists here. Respect is the price of admission. Entering the next area we see a row of rooms on the left. Evasive councillors have been spotted in this area. But like Bigfoot no one knows if they really exist, or what their purpose may be. 

   Here we are in the atrium or what is termed as the epicenter of chaos. Where common sense and general courtesy have never existed. Here is where they drink, roll their joints and inventory their stolen goods. Where deals are made while the staff look on ignoring the rules they are there to enforce. Here we find the druggies and the drunks passed out on the floor recovering from their night of partying in the washrooms. At any given time you can find someone rolling a joint. And if you look really closely you will see a bottle being passed around, or someone taking a swig from a can of beer. Stepping further into the atrium we hear the startled cry of the recently incarcerated, which sounds uncannily like “6 up”. This is an area fraught with danger. The tension is high here due to racism, self-victimization and societal frustrations. This is where the testosterone fueled fights begin. Where the anger and frustrations boil to the surface. Where true madness reigns.

   We take a right down a long sloping hallway. With the slight downgrade and the tension of the atrium. This is truly the path of nightmares for at the end is the doorway to Hell. But before we enter lets pause at the daytime drug den. The atrium washroom. Any drug can be bought and used here. Where even cigarettes are smoked by those afraid to go outside, for fear the staff won’t let them back in or of the cops arresting them. Where the beasts defecate in the showers because the stalls are being used by those doing needles or those who want privacy to do their crack. Here the air is thick with the smoke of various drugs. The floor slick with unknown liquids and littered with debris. The smell should not be experienced by anyone. We cannot linger for here are the truly feral. So everyone take a deep breath, with any luck we can catch a buzz before we continue.

   This is the room of utter despair. The ultimate degradation. The place where Satan’s minions enact their devilish torture. Those who are weak of heart or mind should not continue, for here is the cafeteria. Here the menu is malnourishment, half cooked. With all the heat of Hell how can the food be so cold? It is a place where herbs and spices don’t exist. Where flavor is a half remembered dream, if it ever existed. Where the only thing served with flair is a barbed comment.

   The lights go out. There is a deadly quiet. The kitchen staff obviously didn’t find any strays today for we are tonight’s mystery meat. There is a light hearted giggle and the lights come back on, miraculously there is no one missing. The kitchen staff must have gone out earlier for road kill. This is a place where people who can’t eat pork are given a slice of process cheese for a substitute to go along with their half cooked and cold vegetables. We are just in time for lunch, and look at what they’re serving today. The kitchen’s famous three bite sloppy Joe and a small scoop of half cooked carrots, but this must be a special day for they are also serving freezer burnt ice cream. Anybody wishing to eat good luck, we’ll see you (if you’re lucky) after the hospital pumps your stomach. Apparently there is someone in charge here, but he is never seen. It is rumored that he is afraid if he shows his face he will be the target of a food bombardment. And here is the famous steam counter (the only one of its kind to never have been turned on). The counter is the place where the girls are obviously sent for their breaks, because they spend more time gossiping and talking on their cell phones than serving the beasts. Don’t be fooled by their smiles and giggles, their sharp insensitive tongues are capable of the most vile comments, and the only relish is what they take in their pleasure of hurting the down trodden. Let’s exit while we can and visit the dorms shall we.

   Since we have to pass by the atrium washroom, anyone wishing to may quickly pop in for a deep breath to replenish their buzz. Hurry along everyone we cannot linger, we still have to zip through the atrium. Please remember to not make eye contact as we pass through, you never know who maybe hostile. As we get to the top of the stairs you will note how clean the facilities are before the beasts are allowed in. But you can be sure that as soon as the door is unlocked the washroom will be the same as the atriums, albeit to a slightly lesser degree. You can see where there use to be shower curtains on the shower stalls, obviously the staff had grown tired of constantly replacing them after the beasts have repetitively torn them down.

   Each floor has various sized dorms ranging in size from 2-8 people per room. And an estimated 2 mice, 300 cockroaches and an indeterminate number of bed bugs. There is a rule of no food in the rooms but like all other rules the opposite is done here. The way the clients do the opposite of what they are supposed to has led me to one of two conclusions. Either when you draw near the building you enter opposite land. Or we have a mass case of dyslexia on our hands. But there is also a third more controversial theory that combines disrespect and not caring. But we’ve gotten off topic. Here in the dorms we have the no faults snorers, farters and coughers. And the at faults these are the ones who drink, cook and do their drugs or smoke cigarettes in the room. If you can manage to get some sleep through all this chances are that one of the scavengers are going through your belongings to take what they figure they can sell for drug money. A lot of clients here get very little sleep and sometimes go several days of restless sleep before getting a night where they just pass out from exhaustion. But at least it guaranties them one out of several good night’s sleep.

   This is the end of the tour. Please feel free to run from the building waving your arms and screaming, no one will think twice if you do. And for those interested next week at the same time we are doing a tour of Queens Park. Which promises to be filled with controversy, embezzlement and lots of scandal.

                                                        Tatty bye.