Town Mouse, Country Mouse – Toastmasters Humourous Speech (2nd Place)

 

I am an imposter. 

 

I do not belong in downtown Toronto, I don’t belong on the subway or Go Train, shopping at the Eaton’s centre, or attending a posh nightclub…Its far too….’city’ for me.

 

I belong in a pickup truck on a dirt road, cow tipping, and sharing a few beers with friends at the Stamped Corral Tavern.

 

Fellow toastmasters, honoured guests,

 

I am a country kind of girl.

 

When I graduated university and had to move to the city for work, I looked at it as an adventure – a chance to morph into a ‘city girl’.

 

It wasn’t that easy…

 

I should have realized that I was in over my head on the first day I went apartment hunting.  I took a little drive into Toronto.  I had heard horror stories of driving in the city, but I figured, ‘Hey, I’ve driven a tractor..in the demolition derby.  I can surely handle a little traffic!”  I nearly had a heart attack.   

 

I have never seen so many cars in one place before!  Honking, and yelling, and cutting each other off. 

 

I was told the suburbs were better.  I was told they had ‘small town feel’.

 

But I did not see any corner shops, or people sitting on their porches playing the banjo or drinking lemonade.  I didn’t see any children selling lemonade.  Heck, the closest thing to lemonade I saw was an old empty mud-covered lemonade juice box laying on the side of the road in a puddle - and some old gnarled women with 400 bags and a trail of cats following her, poking it with a stick. 

But, I was pressed for time and needed a place FAST!  So, I reluctantly signed the lease to what I affectionately called “the dingy pit”.  It came complete with a creepy building manager, lack of parking, and Malfunctioning elevators.  Not too bad compared to some of the places I had seen.  And if I only eat 3 times a week, I can afford it! 

 

On moving day I received another reality check when the movers asked why I chose this particular neighbourhood., and suggested that I always lock my doors.  Now I DID mention where I spent my Friday nights, didn’t I?  At the Stampeed Coralle Tavern?

I figured that if I can handle our prized bull (and they don’t call him wild willy for nothing), I can handle a rougher neighbourhood.  These guys are so funny. They also suggested an alarm system  and a dog…  a big dog.  They were joking, right?

 

As the movers brought in the last of the boxes, I returned to my optimistic self. A few days of hard work and I would have my apartment in tip top shape.  If I can muck out barn stalls, I could fix up this apartment. 

 

But, now there was the problem fitting everything INSIDE the dingy pit.  I might be a country gal, but I’m a country gal who likes to shop.  I was having a slight problem with my clothes.  Apparently I have a lot of them.  I certainly don’t think so.  But I guess 6 large wardrobe boxes is a lot for a single female.

 

The movers joked that they moved entire families with less clothing.  

 

I started unloading the wardrobe boxes into my closet.  After one box I heard some creeking.  After the 2nd I heard something cracking.  (SHRUG) I was about ½ way through the 3rd box when I heard something snap…..then the closet rod fell down.

 

I had crammed the clothes in so well, when the rod broke, they literally exploded into my bedroom.  I think I broke the record for distance, when  a sweater that ended up in the toilet.   

 

It was at this moment that the fire alarm went off.

 

Now, I was very glad to see that my new home actually had a fire alarm, but seriously – this was the worst possible time. 

 

Then the panic set in.  “What if the building was set on fire by deranged city-folk?  They keep saying that the city is full of crazy people, and who knows what could be happening.  I bet it’s a bomb.  Oh my Gosh, it’s a bomb and the building is going to explode, sending the contents of all 6 of my wardrobe boxes flying across the city.  I can see it now:  My underware hanging off of the CN Tower.”

 

Donned in my fuzzy bunny slippers, I flew down all 14 flights of stairs.  I was scared.  Because in the country, the fire alarm only goes off if it’s a real emergency!

 

I burst into the lobby, only to find it completely empty, except for ‘creepy building manager’, yelling “false alarm, false alarm”. 

 

28 floors, 12 apartments on each floors  and I am the only person who flees the building.  Total Hick.

 

Back upstairs, the alarm was still ringing…and ringing… and ringing.  So, I solved the problem in true country fashion – with beer and duck tape.  I taped two large pillows over the speaker, and retreated to the balcony to drink the beer.  Problem solved.

 

Over the next few days I began to realize that driving tractors, wrangling bulls and mucking out barn stalls did not suffice as adequate ‘City girl’ preparations.  I couldn’t handle the driving, rough neighborhoods and my dingy pit.  Many nights I went to bed dreaming of the mayberry-esque small town I missed. 

 

A few weeks ago though, I overheard full fledged “city girls” on the subway talking about the exact same problems I had experienced.  One complained of the horrific traffic, the other of the crime, and both agreed that the fabulous apartments were far too expensive. 

 

I thought to myself..  I’m sitting on the subway – that’s a ‘city girl’ activity.  I’m going to my job, which is right downtown.  I even tried drinking something other than beer, at a martini bar!  And I like it.  Huh.  [Pause]

 

Maybe I am becoming a ‘city girl’ after all.