I was up in Montreal over Memorial Day weekend at the invitation of my friend Amy.
I decided I wanted to stay up there in style, so I found a little boutique hotel up there (
http://www.kutuma.com/ ) that looked pretty swank.
However, upon arriving...
...I wondered exactly what kind of hotel it was.
My suite was quite lovely all the same, though, and it did have a jacuzzi-style tub:
An hour after I got to the hotel (around 11 PM, local), I decided I wanted to go out. I was told that Montreal is a very stylish city, so I got dressed up in what I estimated Montrealers might wear and walked outside, imagining myself going to some bistro and chatting with random people. As it was, though, I was somewhat intimidated by my lack of knowledge of the French language, so I went to the first place where I heard an English word being spoken (the word: "fuck"), and went in.
The place was some rockabilly joint, which reminded me of similar places in San Francisco. Everybody there was wearing t-shirts, jeans, and ink -- and there I was in my "club-gear" with my non-French-speakingness. I felt like getting on the stage and yelling, "I AM AN AMERICAN TOURIST! LOATHE ME!" Ah well. After I made my way to the bar, I felt completely at home.
Things got better when I saw a kid wearing a t-shirt from a San Francisco club (the Independent). I pointed at it and said, "San Francisco". He asked if I'd been there, and I told him that they're one of our clients. I was then suddenly mobbed by a bunch of 20-something-year-old French-Canadiens, begging me for tickets. It was cute.
It turned out that these kids were friends of the band, so after the band was finished I wound up going with all of them to a nearby club for an afterparty. Things got kinda hazy at that point.
And that was night #1.