Don’t let the title fool you. This isn’t that kind of love story. But it is a love story of sorts.

It’s early morning. I just rode the crowded skytrain and had the most entertaining journey. But that’s a story for another time.

It’s not quite 6AM and I’m a man in need of fresh, hot bean juice. I have a couple options this early in the morning. I pick McGrease, they know how to squeeze a bean until all the goodness comes out. I don’t care what anyone else says about their coffee, I love it.

I’m halfway down the block toward to the store. There’s a lady, if you want to be so kind as to call her that. She’s wearing leftovers of a pair of shorts that have all the fray marks indicating it used to be longer but didn’t suit her. The original must not have had her ass cheeks peeking out the bottom. They’re looking at me, and not the other way around.

She has a tank top on that covers slightly more than her bra. She looks like she’s having a bad day. She looks like she had a good night. This is a lady with regret all over her face. Either someone showed her the door or she scrambled and found it herself, make-up smeared and hair a mess.

The taxi is waiting for her to finish her cigarette. It’s about a god damned mile long and ridiculously thin, like it had been purging itself to fit in the package with all the other sticks.

She turns, and in one well practiced motion her arm extends and the cigarette is flicked directly to the ground. Finger pointing at the destination. It’s impressive. If it weren’t so filthy.

A local hobo, staple of this area, looking almost as rough as her, speeds up. He’s walking toward us. His face lights up. It’s like Christmas. He hurries to pick up the cigarette that must have only had three or four puffs off it and she scowls at him.

He’s excited, it’s still lit. He takes a drag. Smiles. He’s having a good start to his day.

She’s disgusted. She voices her disgust in mumbles not even the cabbie cares to listen to. The disheveled looking man sits down and relaxes, smoking his cigarette.

“That’s fucking gross.” The girl says, nobody even acknowledges it. As I pass by, she’s got one long lanky leg in the door but she’s checking to see if I’m disgusted too. The cab driver is standing at the back, loading her bag into the trunk. She looks at me like I have all the answers in the world.

“Good morning!” I say happily to the man with the cigarette. He offers me a fist bump, I accept the offer and go for my coffee. No sense ruining my morning with all that negative energy. I’ve got shit to do.