It's OK, I'm a Chemist

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

This is a story of how a young man travelled to Halifax to look for an apartment and found more - much much more.

5:00 pm Friday night -- I was stationed at my usual after-work location of Thomson House guzzling down an ale or two with the usual suspects (chemists and the chemistry groupies). Tales of me fellating a beer bottle in the presence of the ex of one of my companions were being shared. It was decided then to make the voyage to a D-league intramural hockey game taking place at McConnell arena - it was to be the last match of the year for the team Black Shuck. As luck would have it, they were playing Reba McIntyre which starred two chemistry comrades of mine.

9:30 pm -- As my three friends and I positioned ourselves behind the Black Shuck bench, I unloaded what was to be termed "our mini-bar" (1 bottle of gin, 1 bottle of lemon-flavoured vodka, 1 bottle of gin, 1 vodka black ice bottle and the juices to go with them). Now because when I'm drinking I have the bowel control of a 2 year old, I decided to make my way to the toilets. I enter one of the stalls and position on the bowl just as a man at the urinal strikes up a conversation with me. There is no word to describe the awkwardness of this conversation. Urinal-to-urinal conversations are difficult enough, but then when there is a power imbalance to go with it (me being in the more vulnerable position), it can be downright painful. The only fair comparison would be to see your parents have sex as furries. Eventually, the man leaves me to the business at hand. Back at the game, much drunken heckling of players is going on. Cries of "You suck" and "You have beautiful eyes" were interspersed to yield a cacophany of slurred sounds. Two goals in the final 43 seconds seal the 5-4 win for Black Shuck with the winning goal coming with less than 5 seconds remaining.

10:30 pm -- The revelry continues at Bar des Pins where, in conjunction with the celebratory after-win party, a going-away party for a dear friend is being held. Several more pitchers of the finest Molson has to offer are consumed.

11:45 pm -- Eventually, I make my way to a house party where some beer pong is played (and lost). I eventually come to my senses and realize I have an 8 o'clock flight to Halifax to catch the next morning and depart.

6:00 am Saturday morning -- My mom wakes me to go to the airport. I am still a little drunk but understand the situation and beging to ready myself (packing bags and cleaning myself). However, I deem that there is not enough time to shower and resign myself to smelling like a sailor. I make my way through security without any problems. I make my way to my seat on the plane and find myself sitting next to a cute indie girl. It appears that she must be a contortionist of some sort as she makes a pretzel out of her body trying to find a comfortable sleeping arrangement. I regret not showering.

10:30 am (Halifax time) -- Find my friend Jaden at the airport with his buddy Pedey. We make our way back to the downtown of Halifax and stop at the casino to eat some cheap buffet. Make our way back to Jaden's apartment on Argyle road (right in the heart of downtown and next to a Pita Pit). It's a nice enough place with a wooden door to boot. Much sleeping occurs. Pedey is desperate to unload his bachelor apartment, so I decide to a take a look at it. With no desire to search anymore, I decide to accept his offer. We go to eat and grab some booze.

8:00 pm (Halifax time) -- We go to some house party where there are some fairly attractive girls, though upon seeing pictures now I am less impressed than when I was drunk. Finish off my bottle of gin and we make our way to a club (Pacifico?). Everything is VIP since I'm with members of the SMU football team. We stay for a bit then make our way to another club (The Palace). Again, it's VIP. This place is huge. I decide to do a tour and upon my return lose Jaden. All's well since I can locate his roommate (aka Mr. 3000). Mr. 3000 is chatting up four girls with some success. I come along and try to pick up some remnants.

3:30 am Sunday (Halifax time) -- It's closing time and I exit the bar. I lose Mr. 3000 and still can't find Jaden. Ooooh hotdogs being sold on the street. They cost $2.50. I have $2.17 in random coins. I barter for a hotdog and suceed. Trying to locate the apartment, I ask random people for Argyle road. Not too much success. I try to ask for Pita Pit - things go much better. I eventually find the apartment and ring the doorbell. Unfortunately no one answers. I stumble into the pita pit and ask to use the phone, which is behind the counter. A middle-aged woman working behind the couter dials my friend's number. No answer. One more try. Again no answer. I decide to try my luck again with ringing the doorbell - no luck. Hmmm, another hotdog? I get money from the atm and grab another hotdog. I then return to the apartment and try knocking again. No luck. By this time, Pita Pit is closed so I resort to drastic measures. I TEAR OUT THE MAIL SLOT FROM THE APARTMENT DOOR! My calculations on the reach and size of my arm are incorrect and I can't reach the lock on the inside. I try a pay phone and Mr. 3000 answers and says he'll let me in. He sees the mail slot, laughs, puts it back in and lets me into the apartment. I find the four girls he was talking to eating donairs in his room. I fall asleep.

1:05 pm Sunday afternoon (Halifax time)-- Wake up. Wake Jaden up. Grab some breakfast and the call my lift to the airport. He's late. Rushing to the airport, we get pulled over by the cops. Ticket get written up and another 15 minutes late. I get to the ticket booth of the airport just in time for the plane to take-off without me. All other flights to Montreal that day are fully booked. The best possible arrangement for me is to catch a flight to St. John, New Brunswick that night and to fly into Montreal the following morning.

9:30 pm Sunday night (Halifax time) -- After six and a half hours in the airport, my flight to St. John takes off. It is a twenty-seat propeller plane. Lady boarding the flight freaks out. Pilot calms her down. Thirty minutes later, I'm in St. John. I get to my hotel. Watch beginning of Legally Blonde. Pass out.

5:17 am Monday morning (St. John time) -- I get my wake-up call 13 minutes early. I shower and prepare myself. The porter of the hotel drives me to the airport. He can't believe that I lived my entire life in Montreal since he "can barely tell that I have a french accent". He talks about sleeping with fat girls. I get to the airport just in time to catch my flight. I fly home.

7:30 am (Montreal time) -- I arrive in the airport. Get home from the airport using public transport in 1 hour! Unbelievable! Change my clothes, go to work. My lab takes me out to Indian buffet and I gorge myself regaling them with stories from my crazy weekend.

note: times might be inexact due to inebriation and extreme tiredness.

Monday, March 07, 2005

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven't posted in a while but I have late-breaking important news!....

But seriously, I got a job in Halifax and will probably moving out there soon.