Walking the

Hello again, faithful readers (and for those of you logging in hoping to see another webcomic adventure of "That QR Code Guy", you'll be pleased to hear that yes indeed, another installment is forthcoming in the next few days, so - keep checking back).

If you'll recall, waaay back when I first got started with Stalking the Job, I mentioned that when attempting a one-man guerrilla-marketing initiative, it's best to keep things on as even a keel as possible - smile, walk tall, be ready, willing & able to engage people constructively - and to avoid any and all hassles as regards private property. Simply put, this means that should the security guards on duty in a particular building come to have a chat with you about where you may or may not stand, walk or be seen it's always the best policy to cheerfully comply. After all, they're only doing their jobs; chances are there's someone situated higher up the chain putting the squeeze on them.

In order to avoid this situation cropping up too often, I've made a point of keeping my QR code campaign outdoors and at street-level to as great an extent as I can. My intent is to try connecting with interested parties - not to make a nuisance of myself. That being said, walking around the city in the blustering cold of February can be a truly punishing experience, and on occasion, it's been necessary to duck indoors to warm up and/or to locate (and make use of) toilet facilities. Trouble is, to do that requires either the purchase of a cup of coffee or a foray into Toronto's underground PATH system of interconnected shopping concourses and food courts, hidden away beneath the central banking towers of the downtown core.

On a day like today, however... a dark winter's day (the sort of day that can't make up its' mind whether to snow or rain so instead it manages both, with a gale-force wind thrown for good measure), it seemed appropriate to throw caution to the wind and bend my own rules a little. Yes, faithful readers - I walked the PATH.

It's bewildering down there, I don't mind telling you. Like a shopping mall, there are no clocks on the walls to let you know what time it is; the passageways twist and turn and with nothing of the streetscape visible from two or three stories below ground, it's easy to lose your bearings. More than once I found myself having to retrace my steps after finding my way to a dead-end service corridor.

It's also crowded! Now I know why King & Bay isn't nearly as much a sea of humanity at lunchtime as it might otherwise be. There must be (literally) tens of thousands of office workers in the downtown core who bypass the elements entirely by remaining inside the PATH system from the moment they exit the subway or GO train in the morning until it's time to head home. I must have been a mildly bewildering presence down there amongst these subterranean people, as I caught many heads turning (and at least a few people fishing in their pockets for their Blackberries).

Truth be told, I am somewhat uncomfortable in environments like shopping malls or movie theatres. It's not that I'm claustrophobic, or even agoraphobic - it's just that I have come to be somewhat wary of crowds, especially in emergency situations. You can't predict how a given agglomeration of human beings will react in the case of say, a fire. And if the exit points from a pedestrian maze aren't clearly marked, well...  let's just say that my slightly exaggerated sense of personal safety will always trump a willingness on my part to move happily along with the herd. There's only so much time I'm willing to spend inside before a keenly-felt need to return outside takes hold. Irrational? Perhaps... but as my grandmother always said, "better safe than sorry".

Returning to the surface world, my journeying once again took me west, through the Entertainment District and onwards to Bathurst Street. I some fun waving back to the people peering out their windows at TAXI, on Wellington - chatted with a few minions outside the CBC building on John Street - and was able to provide some snappy comebacks to more than a few cold and wet passersby. Somewhere along the line, however, a telltale moistness between the toes of my right foot told me my third pair of shoes this month might be on the threshold of failure. I'll have to keep an eye (or maybe a foot) on that! Also, the wind shear on certain streets was so great that it tore one of the adhesive velcro tabs on my sandwich board right off the underlying canvasboard (not to worry, I have plenty of spare velcro at  home and have already effected repairs). So, with the wind pulling crazily at the sandwich board, the prospect of returning partway home via the PATH had a definite appeal.

Don't mess with Metro Hall.

After re-entering the PATH via Metro Hall, however, I was accosted by a security guard, an earnest young man who demanded I remove my sandwich board as he felt that I was "soliciting" on private premises. I explained politely that I was not selling anything, had no interest in remaining on the premises, and asked courteously for him to direct me to the closest underground exit that would take me eastward. With that, he seemed more relieved than anything - though I've made a mental note not to return to that portion of the PATH in future. The rest of the trip back was uneventful, but I tried remaining cognizant of my surroundings with relation to the size of my footprint (the dimensions of the sandwich board can sometimes make for awkward situations, particularly in doorways and on escalators). By the time I found myself beneath First Canadian Place, I'd managed to once again get myself completely lost. With the experience at Metro Hall still fresh, I was loathe to find myself in the same situation and so, spying a group of security guards standing together on the edge of a cluster of shops, I decided to brazen it out a bit. Rather than shying away from them for fear of being asked to leave, I fairly bounded up to them (full of cheer and goodwill) and asked them how to get to the King Street subway station.

And you know? It worked like a charm! Not only were they helpful, they actually started whipping out their phones to give me a scan. I'm not entirely sure, but I think I might've inadvertently discovered how to side-step issues with building security guards - the key being to simply (and as always, politely) tap them for information. After all, a man asking for directions out is not a man looking to linger. And as good as their word, I was able to use their instructions to find my way to Yonge & King, where I exited to make my way home - footsore, sure - but not nearly quite so chilled to the bone as most days.

For Stalking the Job, this is John Currie (That QR Code Guy) signing off. As ever, faithful readers - I'll be seeing you.

Have you seen That QR Code Guy?

If you're one of the many who've snapped a photo of me while I've been out Stalking the Job, I'd love to hear from you! Send in your photos - I'll make a point of featuring them here. Here's one from earlier today:

Taken on Wellington Street February 29th 2012 @iamryanbooth