I got bored one day so I decided to take a trip to Montréal. It was a pretty good idea and, since I like to consider myself to be somewhat spontaneous, I thought it on the Thursday and left on the Friday. I decided to treat myself too, so I played it like a baller. I took the train, first class. Booked an executive hotel room that cost about a months rent for two nights. There’s no way this could go wrong.
So I went. And what does one do when you go to Montréal solo? Well, Club Super Sexe of course! I’m kidding about that, maybe. I checked into my awesome hotel and wandered around it for about an hour, aimlessly. Like a cat, I rubbed myself over it to mark it as mine. Maybe I even had a bra’n'panty party. Then I abused every little facility I could within the confines of the room that wouldn’t yield me getting kicked out on the first night. The bed was amazing. It’s too bad you weren’t there to share it with me. All five of you could’ve fit. So big, spacious, cozy. I slept for a solid 8 hours. Best 8 hours I’ve slept in ages.
After I managed to crawl out of fort-sleepy-pants on the Saturday, I prepped for one of my epic walks. And by epic I mean: I’m going to start walking and I have no idea where I’m going. I headed up some street, saw some meat, kept on walking. I found some random area with a lot of boutiques and cool little apartment/townhouses. I ran into some elder lady who kept asking me en Français how to pay for parking. How would I know, I didn’t drive? But somehow I managed to help her out using my insane logical skills. She was pretty good looking too. If I were only 30 years older…
My Saturday walk went on for almost 4 hours in -10ºC. Somewhere in between 18-20km later I found myself frozen, hungry, thirsty, and ready to do nothing for the rest of the day. It’s only 2pm. I found a non exciting pub to rest my ass. As it turns out this next two hours would be one of the highlights of my trip. The bartender, she had a smile that could melt the frost off my testicles. It may have just been the actual heating in the building that was doing that, but seriously. This girl was glowing. And she’s just the day bartender. I’m not going to go on about her. I know you don’t actually care. She was awesome and that’s it. She was one of those people that you’ll remember forever even if you never, ever see her again. Come 5pm she was off like a dedicated soldier of life working tables at the same place. That was my cue to exit.
After that, nothing else was as entertaining. It’s one of those scenarios when your bar gets set high so early and everything else is just as exciting as politicians debating on TV.
So I went to Club Super Sexe. After all, it was right next door. But then I realized I was carrying a fairly expensive camera so there was no way I was getting in. “Yeah, I’m here for the 5pm photo shoot…” right. I bounced around from bar to bar, had some espresso and watched the Habs actually win one game. The nightlife was pretty quiet during this trip. That, or I just have no idea where the real people hang out in good old Montréal.
I need to go back again. Maybe next time I’ll actually hit up Club Super Sexe. I’m pretty sure the title of this is “like an Idiot”; for a Baller, I am not.
tl;dr: Montréal is awesome.