I reached my plain hand to the counter where my citrus iced tea was ready. Citrusâ€”I believe thatâ€™s what the Turkish woman had said it was. In my head I associated her deep skin tone and accent to some Middle Eastern country to remind myself that I was worldly and the rest of the souls in the little shop on Armitage were victims of involuntary isolationismâ€”Due to light wallets and lack of interest. I canâ€™t say that Iâ€™m proud to know the people that I know, or that my life in the two states that Iâ€™ve lived in has been anything you would call interesting. But I take pride in my Eastern European boy toy, and the mix of consignment shop finds and designer boutique pieces that make up what I am for your street eyes. I can say, despite my lack of importance or ability to recite lines from old movies, that I do know how to take this, rather ordinary and mundane life, and weave it into stories that make you think Iâ€™m something just short of wonderful. Is it wrong to play along with this life that Iâ€™ve created in my head? I wouldnâ€™t say wrongâ€”Iâ€™d sayâ€¦ ciekawy.