I think our Canadian spruiker is running a minor mafia. Y'know how, if you were, say, an Irish immigrant to America sometime during the 19th century, you'd report to that guy, and he'd get you a job and a place to live and it'd all be good? Well, our spruiker is that guy for Canadian visitors to Melbourne. I swear. Today he interrupted his pitch to have a long talk with these two barely-bearded youths about finding them a job in Melbourne.

He also stacked it on his skateboard on the way to work, so the highlight of my day was patching up his "ouchie".