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The pretty-much-sober-now review
Aug. 16th, 2003 05:13 amYes, it is nearly 5 am.
I have been home for about twenty minutes.
Had a blast. This entry will be very, very disjointed. In fact, I think I should get some sort of award. Yes. An award is good.
I am not drunk, despite evidence to the contrary. I was happily buzzed somewhere around 1am, and then I stopped drinking and consumed many caffeinated beverages and thus was more than able to provide lifts home for people.
We started the evening at Toyo's Sushi Bar & Grill on Mountain st., where I'd never been. Good stuff, food cooked right before you on a heated portion of the table by a very skinny but extremely entertaining chef who kept up a stream of almost incomprehensible chatter and was more than amenable to having many of the ladies at the table flirt shamelessly with him. Much fun.
Attendees:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
joane, of course (her stag party, wouldn't have been one without her), karine, the maid of honour Amanda, the groom's sister Helen, a gaming friend named Sandra, a very very nice flirty girl named Rose, and a friend of joane's named Miranda. Oh, and yours truly, natch.
We giggled and squeaked and made inappropriate comments and drank lots of sake, and generally had a very good time until we decided it was time to move on. Move on we did, to Hurley's Irish Pub, where we sat on the back terrace, listened to the Celtic band (Fiddle God was not there, sadly), and I had two black-and-tans (half Guinness and half Bass, good stuff). Having already begun the fun process of taking pictures while walking along Ste. Catherine, we continued said process at Hurley's, where the general consensus seemed to be that we needed lots of pictures with lots of cleavage. I suspect blackmail will be involved once the pictures are developed. *cringe*
I got nice and tipsy (nowhere near as bad as last year) and chatted happily away to Miranda, who I was led to understand was not only gay but single as well. Yes,joane was playing "Yenta," as she put it. ("Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match! Find me a find, catch me a catch!") Miranda's also a major hottie (tall, short blonde hair, lovely soft features and gorgeous eyes... but I digress), which helped. Did I mention she's a fan of Buffy and Angel and Forever Knight? She even had a Buffy purse! So, yeah, I'm sold. ;) Dunno what she made of me, but she didn't seem to object when I asked for her phone number and email address. At worst I'll have made a really good new friend.
We wobbled our way back to Ste. Catherine after that and jumped into two cabs to get over to the Playgirl Club, where I fairly boggled at the cover ($10). We settled into some seats at the far right of the stage, and watched a lone dancer gyrate suggestively in the middle of the floor. I was highly disturbed, as the bottom of his ribcage stuck out almost further than his pectoral muscles, and looked extremely painful. He didn't seem to mind, however, so I guess it was all good.
Miranda and I had a blast poking fun at the whole process, especially since there was no way that any fewer than 90% of those men were gay. I mean, how many straight guys can dance that well? ;) They had a very fun "James Bond" choreography, and then they broke into a new dance number to a few tunes from "Dirty Dancing" which was lots of fun to watch. It transpired that I was the only person in the group never to have seen the movie, so now I have an unofficial invitation to go see it at Miranda's place, since she recently acquired the DVD. Hu-aah!
Oh, and the highlight for me was the MC, who was (at a distance) a dead-ringer, if slightly less built, for Vin Diesel. Now, being gay, there are by definition few men who do *anything* for me. However, there are still a couple, and high up on the list are Johnny Depp and Vin Diesel. In fact, Vin Diesel is the exact type that usually turns me completely off (I like my men fey, thankyouverymuch), but there's something about him... I think it's the tattoos. *serious nod* He's just hot.
During an "everyone on stage" moment (Miranda and I stayed out of it so we could watch all the pretty girls dancing), Rose got very lucky and got herself sandwiched between Vin Diesel and another guy with Patrick Swayze moves. I think she definitely had fun there. :) It was certainly fun to watch.
Miranda and I continued our peanut-gallery-type commentary, lamented the lack of Nekkid Man Butt™ (the only part of the anatomy we really had any interest in), and giggled our way through the performance until finally the smoke and loudness drove us back out into the street at about 2am.
We lost Helen and Rose then (Sandra left right after Hurley's), and the rest of us went and crashed at a nearby Café Dépôt, where we exchanged cat stories and horror stories about various accidents involving woodworking and/or house repair and/or screen doors. We were very tired by then but mostly sober, so naturally we mostly discussed our cats. Turns out Miranda has five cats, which gives me hope. :)
There was a small traffic incident as we left the café, actually, on the corner of de Maisonneuve and Saint-Laurent, wherein a car with New York plates drove into the middle of the intersection and abruptly decided to turn left. A car coming up behind it, seeing that the light was yellow, sped up to cross the intersection and ran right into it, whereupon the New York car took off, with the second car in pursuit (hello, road rage!). We didn't see how that turned out, because we were focussed on getting taxis, but the taxi Miranda, Amanda and I shared caught the tail end of it, because we drove past the New York car doing the exact same thing as before, driving into the middle of the next intersection and then abruptly changing directions. Clearly, the driver was dumb and kinda insane.
Speaking of insane drivers, our cabbie was certifiable. He was going somewhere aroun 70kph on René-Lévesque boulevard at 3am, dodging cars and pedestrians and other random obstacles as though he were trying to break Fangio's record. Then when we neared our destination (which we had already repeated three times), he asked us where we wanted to be left off, then kept asking in spite of our repeated insistence on the original location. After a while he got irritated and told us to "make up [our] minds!" Because, of course, repeating the same instruction ten times was a clear sign of waffling. o_O
We'd got our wires crossed somewhere along the way, andjoane and karine were waiting for us elsewhere, but we eventually found them, and all was well. I provided lifts home to all except karine who had her car with her, and then proceeded homeward myself. Got here without incident, and am now going to go roll into bed.
All in all, a v. good time.
I *so* need to learn to dance properly. I mean, do something other than bop in rhythm to the music.
Okay, off to bed.
I have been home for about twenty minutes.
Had a blast. This entry will be very, very disjointed. In fact, I think I should get some sort of award. Yes. An award is good.
I am not drunk, despite evidence to the contrary. I was happily buzzed somewhere around 1am, and then I stopped drinking and consumed many caffeinated beverages and thus was more than able to provide lifts home for people.
We started the evening at Toyo's Sushi Bar & Grill on Mountain st., where I'd never been. Good stuff, food cooked right before you on a heated portion of the table by a very skinny but extremely entertaining chef who kept up a stream of almost incomprehensible chatter and was more than amenable to having many of the ladies at the table flirt shamelessly with him. Much fun.
Attendees:
joane, of course (her stag party, wouldn't have been one without her), karine, the maid of honour Amanda, the groom's sister Helen, a gaming friend named Sandra, a very very nice flirty girl named Rose, and a friend of joane's named Miranda. Oh, and yours truly, natch.We giggled and squeaked and made inappropriate comments and drank lots of sake, and generally had a very good time until we decided it was time to move on. Move on we did, to Hurley's Irish Pub, where we sat on the back terrace, listened to the Celtic band (Fiddle God was not there, sadly), and I had two black-and-tans (half Guinness and half Bass, good stuff). Having already begun the fun process of taking pictures while walking along Ste. Catherine, we continued said process at Hurley's, where the general consensus seemed to be that we needed lots of pictures with lots of cleavage. I suspect blackmail will be involved once the pictures are developed. *cringe*
I got nice and tipsy (nowhere near as bad as last year) and chatted happily away to Miranda, who I was led to understand was not only gay but single as well. Yes,
joane was playing "Yenta," as she put it. ("Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match! Find me a find, catch me a catch!") Miranda's also a major hottie (tall, short blonde hair, lovely soft features and gorgeous eyes... but I digress), which helped. Did I mention she's a fan of Buffy and Angel and Forever Knight? She even had a Buffy purse! So, yeah, I'm sold. ;) Dunno what she made of me, but she didn't seem to object when I asked for her phone number and email address. At worst I'll have made a really good new friend.We wobbled our way back to Ste. Catherine after that and jumped into two cabs to get over to the Playgirl Club, where I fairly boggled at the cover ($10). We settled into some seats at the far right of the stage, and watched a lone dancer gyrate suggestively in the middle of the floor. I was highly disturbed, as the bottom of his ribcage stuck out almost further than his pectoral muscles, and looked extremely painful. He didn't seem to mind, however, so I guess it was all good.
Miranda and I had a blast poking fun at the whole process, especially since there was no way that any fewer than 90% of those men were gay. I mean, how many straight guys can dance that well? ;) They had a very fun "James Bond" choreography, and then they broke into a new dance number to a few tunes from "Dirty Dancing" which was lots of fun to watch. It transpired that I was the only person in the group never to have seen the movie, so now I have an unofficial invitation to go see it at Miranda's place, since she recently acquired the DVD. Hu-aah!
Oh, and the highlight for me was the MC, who was (at a distance) a dead-ringer, if slightly less built, for Vin Diesel. Now, being gay, there are by definition few men who do *anything* for me. However, there are still a couple, and high up on the list are Johnny Depp and Vin Diesel. In fact, Vin Diesel is the exact type that usually turns me completely off (I like my men fey, thankyouverymuch), but there's something about him... I think it's the tattoos. *serious nod* He's just hot.
During an "everyone on stage" moment (Miranda and I stayed out of it so we could watch all the pretty girls dancing), Rose got very lucky and got herself sandwiched between Vin Diesel and another guy with Patrick Swayze moves. I think she definitely had fun there. :) It was certainly fun to watch.
Miranda and I continued our peanut-gallery-type commentary, lamented the lack of Nekkid Man Butt™ (the only part of the anatomy we really had any interest in), and giggled our way through the performance until finally the smoke and loudness drove us back out into the street at about 2am.
We lost Helen and Rose then (Sandra left right after Hurley's), and the rest of us went and crashed at a nearby Café Dépôt, where we exchanged cat stories and horror stories about various accidents involving woodworking and/or house repair and/or screen doors. We were very tired by then but mostly sober, so naturally we mostly discussed our cats. Turns out Miranda has five cats, which gives me hope. :)
There was a small traffic incident as we left the café, actually, on the corner of de Maisonneuve and Saint-Laurent, wherein a car with New York plates drove into the middle of the intersection and abruptly decided to turn left. A car coming up behind it, seeing that the light was yellow, sped up to cross the intersection and ran right into it, whereupon the New York car took off, with the second car in pursuit (hello, road rage!). We didn't see how that turned out, because we were focussed on getting taxis, but the taxi Miranda, Amanda and I shared caught the tail end of it, because we drove past the New York car doing the exact same thing as before, driving into the middle of the next intersection and then abruptly changing directions. Clearly, the driver was dumb and kinda insane.
Speaking of insane drivers, our cabbie was certifiable. He was going somewhere aroun 70kph on René-Lévesque boulevard at 3am, dodging cars and pedestrians and other random obstacles as though he were trying to break Fangio's record. Then when we neared our destination (which we had already repeated three times), he asked us where we wanted to be left off, then kept asking in spite of our repeated insistence on the original location. After a while he got irritated and told us to "make up [our] minds!" Because, of course, repeating the same instruction ten times was a clear sign of waffling. o_O
We'd got our wires crossed somewhere along the way, and
joane and karine were waiting for us elsewhere, but we eventually found them, and all was well. I provided lifts home to all except karine who had her car with her, and then proceeded homeward myself. Got here without incident, and am now going to go roll into bed.All in all, a v. good time.
I *so* need to learn to dance properly. I mean, do something other than bop in rhythm to the music.
Okay, off to bed.
