In the province of Alberta there lives a couple of large women named Rita and Elspeth. This is their story.

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Two skips and a jump accross the way I met a man working as a strong arm for the local creamed corn cannery. I'm often meeting men, it seems, and yet this time was different. Besides his lovely french poodle and darling little cyborg daughter he carried with him two volumes of The True Tales of Time and Other Fables.

We sat down at a bench along the shapely river and began to discuss the rise and rise of corruption in the political system. Although our views on the matter seemed to be exactly the same in every detail, our discussion quickly turned into a heated argument. Finaly, after a rigorous round of this game we retired to my hotel room for another sort of game.

I've never been good at two-person rummy, but that day for some unknown reason I was unbeatable. We kept at it for hours, and I never lost a single hand. Of course, it was boring as all snot and he left at first light. As he shut the door behind him I could hear him humming an old Ricky Martin tune under his breath.

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My friend Rita is quite a character. She's had that rusted out motel room on the eastern edge of town for God knows how long. Twice a week, at least, it seems she's spending the night there playing cards until the break of dawn. Everytime it's the same story, "I met a man working as this or that, we talked about politics by the river, this time it was different." You'd probably get sick of that faster than a cat on roller skates. Somehow, though, I find it a sign of hope for the future.

My life has never been quite as exciting as Rita's. It seems like I've always worked for the same municipal waste service. Twice a day I make trips up north with my truck, then turn around and head back for another load. You'd probably be suprised by how much garbage we take out of this town each day. For me, though, driving back and forth is like a good massage to the noggin; cleans out that old bundle of neurons like back in the days of EST. I'd be running my own EST clinic right this minute if they hadn't outlawed electricity.

Anyway, you probably want to get on your way, and I won't keep you. If you make it all the way, and I'm sure you will, don't forget about this place -- cannery and all.