Not A Bourgeoise Problem
My downtown apartment building has become a campground for a couple of homeless people. So my friend, who lives in the basement, cleaned out the nest area they'd made under the stairs.
It reeked, an animal smell, with a chaser of eau de booze.
Anyway, she felt kind of bad about it, as did I. We both used to live in the suburbs (me Ottawa, her Guelph) where we'd have thought such a thing was cruel (what's the harm? we'd have said) but now that we live downtown where homeless people actually are (and looking for a place to spend the night) we're less inclined to think it's okay.
A friend in my suburban moms-at-home bookclub used to joke at our meetings, "Okay, ladies - I've got another bourgeoise problem I need solved." This doesn't feel like that, though, it feels more like hard honestly about where I actually DO draw my tolerance line.
Which turns out to be in a surprisingly literal place.
