Men in suits think life sucks


I spent a little while meandering through Toronto’s PATH network the other day on the way to visit my brother, and I emerged from the underground into the stunning atrium on the main floor of Brookfield Place (formerly BCE Place). There were a couple of well-dressed men ahead of me on the escalator, and their conversation was something out of Wall Street.

Brookfield Atrium

The atrium kind of looks like a church, non?

The pair measured about 6’2 and 6′, left and right, respectively, and they each wore pin-striped suits. I don’t know much about suits, but their specimens looked expensive. They sort of shone without actually shining. Or maybe that was the glare from their excessively polished shoes — no doubt the work of one of the many underpaid shoe-shiners on the concourse out from which I was emerging.

Anyways, their conversation had something to do with some “problem” one of them had; not a serious problem, of course. Those kinds of concerns are limited to the proletariat.

“Life sucks right now,” Lefty said.

They both guffawed, a little too comfortable in their own skin.

They sauntered over to the elevators and boarded one headed somewhere between the 14th and 27th floors. Nothing to see here, folks. Just a couple of mid-level junior executives coming back from lunch.


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