One time as I was sitting in our yard and looking at the street I noticed a neighborhood boy who was coming back from shopping. Given how our yard was above the street level he had not noticed me. As he got closer he suddenly unzipped his pants and without losing his stride began peeing as he continued walking. I waited until he was right under me before I started laughing at the top of my lungs. Clearly startled he looked around trying to find the source of laughter and as he did this his pee stream splashed in various directions. When he finally spotted me he calmed down, laughed and said, "I thought it was a grown adult laughing." The fact that I was a teenager seemed to make his indecent exposure and public urination justified.
"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...
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