Bloor St. Blues

I've always been in love with Bloor St...up until a few weeks ago. As always I was collecting business cards along the lanes when I came to Avenue Rd. and went into Whole Foods. I didn't realize there was a whole shopping place on the lower floor so I went into random stores asking for biz cards.
This guy kept on asking me what it was for before giving me one. Usually I just lie and say, "For contact info." but this time the guy knew I was lying because it was weird for a seemingly 8-year-old to want contact information for a kitchen supply store (although, of course, when you're really 19 and moving off campus next year it makes sense to go into a kitchen supply store). To avoid that for next time, I told myself I would tell the person the truth and see how well it goes.
So. I went into this isolated shoe store and I noticed things were quite weird when I accidentally stepped on this (faux?) tiger-skin rug. The woman behind the counter, presumably the shop owner and shoe designer or whatever, gave me a tight smile and I gathered up my courage and headed towards the counter.
The convo:
"Do you have a business card?"
"What is it for?"
"I, er...collect business cards."
"What is it really for?"
"I collect business cards as a hobby."
Just then the phone rang and as she answered it I saw that a pile of cards had been right in front of me in a shoe-shaped basket. I made a grab for one (or two, or three, four, five) when the Owner who Must've Been Having a Slow Day snatched the basket away from me as if I was intent on killing her child instead of taking a business card. She continued to glare at me as I slowly backed out of the store, coming to terms with Yorkville = Snobs.