Indian food and fireworks, no Jazz Festival

03.07.2009

Guy Paul lives right beside the Olympic Stadium, so I opted to be dropped off there this morning after breakfast at Cora's. (It seems you can't get away from Cora's in Quebec!) He had to go to his friend's cottage to plan out his Central America trip. He's leaving in three weeks!

Anyway, I didn't want to go up the funiculaire for $15, although I guess everyone has to do it once, right? Still, I never went. I just walked around for a while and then headed to Marc-Andre's house.

Picture this, I'm carrying all my gear down the escalator to the blue line at Jean-Talon station. A big black guy starts following me and talking to me in French.

"akle;afnea;ekrj"

"Sorry, I don't understand French."

"I want to take you to McDonald's."

"What?!" I exclaim, horrified that this person thought I was homeless and felt the need to feed me at a fast food joint...

"I love you, I think you are a nice girl, I want to go to McDonald's with you."

Suddenly, I am not AS offended anymore. I'm slightly flattered and embarrassed. I smile at the misunderstanding.

"OH! Sorry, no! Thank you, but I have to go."

As I get back on the Metro, I wonder who would use a date at McDonald's as a pickup line? What kind of person do you have to be to think this would impress a random stranger?

Anyway, I get to Marc-Andre's part of town, still carrying all my stuff. I call him as soon as I get off the subway, but he's somewhere else.

"No problem!" I lie through my teeth. I'm going to have to carry this crap around with me for another hour...

I decide to go and find his house, thankfully, the door to his apartment is open, so I leave all my crap there and then go wandering. I buy Marc some cheap wine (not knowing he's a HUGE wine snob) and then wait for him back at the apartment. He shows up right on time as well. Nice.

We check the couchsurfing group for an event, and lo and behold, there is an Indian food night! Delicious! We go over there at 4 p.m. and help with the cooking, more people show up and I meet a nice German boy who looks distinctly familiar. We each do a double take and he recognizes me.

"Louise! It's Niels!"

Riiiiight, how could I forget? Long story, ask me later.

"Come with us to get some wine."

"OK"

So we're walking down the street and the sole on my shoe is flapping behind me. Every step I take goes clip clop clop clop clip clop clop clop. Yeah, I have to fix that.

As soon as we get back, I ask for some duct tape and find some electrical tape. Perfect. I fix my boot and I should be good to go for the rest of the weekend.

More and more people come, and soon the barbecued tandoori chicken is ready, so is our biriyani and chickpeas and everything else! What a feast. We all pitched in $6 and we all had a scrumptious meal.

Everyone was cool EXCEPT this one guy from Manchester, Adam. Since he walked in the door he was INTENT on pissing me off. I dunno if he was playing "The Game" or if he was just an asshole. No matter.

"Adam, I heard you were a magnificent storyteller"

"Oh yes! I am a traveling minstrel! I'd be surprised if you knew what minstrel meant."

"OK...f--- you."

And off I went.

Later on...

"Louise stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're my mom and you're disappointed in me."

"That's probably because I am."

Soon everyone is dancing and some other people want to go see the fireworks. Australia is competing tonight, so Adam volunteers his balcony. I can't decide if I want to go witness the train wreck that is Adam or go to the Jazz Festival. Marc-Andre flips a coin and so we go to Adam's house.

By the time we get there, the fireworks are half over and Adam is even more hammered than before.

I am having a nice quiet conversation with a lady I met at the party, Kadi. Adam comes over and immediately starts harrassing this nice person.

"Yyyyyeah, remember when I licked your vagina?! Oh yeahhhh that was awesome, wasn't it?"

I look over at Kadi, she's not laughing, but she's also not saying anything. He keeps going... I can't take it anymore.

"Can you PLEASE go away? I'm trying to have a conversation with this person and you're rudely interrupting and sexually harrassing her! Go... away..."

He continues... someone has to DRAG him out of the room because I just keep bitching at him.

I turn to Kadi.... "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Oh... no, not really, I mean it did at first, but that's just Adam."

"Um... NO ONE has a right to do that. You can't just brush it off like that."

"Yeah...well..."

Anyway...there you have it, my night in Montreal. After this, Marc-Andre and I take the night bus home.

Olympic Stadium