This city is unnaturally calm. A friend told me that he had never seen a single fight break out here in all his years in Vancouver. I have to agree with him that even though I occasionally hang around areas that invite violent acts, I have seen few actual altercations.
Well, one so far in the past five years, over space that spans the many kilometers from Abbotsford and Chilliwack to West Vancouver.
Even walking through the supposedly deadly area of East Hastings and Main St., the worst thing that has happened to me is the accosting of an old woman who said that I looked a lot like her son. Myths of hookers that lure you into alleyways where you’d get beaten up for your wallet, and junkies running at you with infected needles – these I have yet to see.
Continue reading ‘The Police and the Private’








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