On Spencer Ave, in glorious Parkdale, is a place called 'Leisure World'. Far from the haven for nerds into model trains and D&D that I recall from my youth, this so-called Leisure World is just the type of place I'd send my aging stepfather if he beat me as a child.
Instead of flowers, Leisure World sows it's gardens with half-wits and attention-starved elderly.
There is one man of particular note who, though saddled to a wheelchair, lives life without boundaries; unfortunately, one of the boundaries he now flaunts pertains to the sensible use of a public thoroughfare--for daily I encounter him asleep at his wheels in the middle of the street. The advantage of driving a Smart Car is generally I can maneuver around him.
He does exhibit an uncommon trust in Toronto drivers; I wouldn't sleep in the middle of ANY Toronto street, no matter how much physical mobility I stood to lose.