We got to Quebec around 7ish o’clock. The drive was a little under 10 hours. God, I-87 sucks. I took it last time to my Miata meet and it hasn’t gotten any more interesting.
After a day in this city, I can ascertain one thing: Quebec is a fat person’s worst nightmare.
The inclines in this fucking city are like San Francisco’s on crack. Though I would assume it makes a sweet luge course.
As I was walking around the city last night, I kept noticing fucking Miatas! It was unbelievable! Miata after Miata after Miata! New ones, old ones, even 2nd gen NBs! Canada seems to be chockful of them. We started noticing them on the highway at first, but they’re parked all over Quebec too.
There was some sort of shindig going on the other day at the hotel, something about a high school prom or something. The cars some of these kids were coming in were nothing short of boner-inducing. One fuck came in a bright red Lotus Elise, the first time I’ve ever seen one in person. He then proceeded (like a jackass) to rev the thing to its redline. The scream was gorgeous. Another kid came in a Carrera 4S, which was unfortunately an autotragic. There was a BMW Z3, a piece of shit riced out SRT4 (complemented fantastically by 4″ rotors) and I even saw a new NC Miata in Stormy Blue!
Apparently, only 10% of the teenage population speaks English, which, if I ever try to go to a club, will leave me up shit creek with no paddle, trying to formulate some retarded sentence constructed from the vocabulary attained after 4 years of “studying” French. Oh well, I’ll just woo the ladies with my American charm and American money. Yeah, that’ll get them.
A plus to the vacation is our hotel. Staying at the Hilton, we have the “Executif” floor and subsequent access to the Club Executif, which is pretty much just a lounge where you can eat breakfast from 7-11, eat lunch from 5-7, and drink alcohol from 5-10.
Speaking of alcohol, my room has a stocked minibar, with those adorable tiny little 50ml liquor bottles! Oh, the assortment is fantastic. There’s Jack Daniels, Johnny Red Label, Chivas, Grand Marnier, Smirnoff, and even my Bacardi! And of course, there’s your standard arrangement of terrible light beer and soft drinks.
The lounge has all these liquors (full sized, of course) and more, including Bailey’s (which is simply delicious), Amaretto, and Creme de Menthe.
The people are pretty nice and I do try to utilize the the assorted bag
of phrases and questions I know how to form. I don’t know if it’s
motivation enough to study the language further, but who knows?
Generally, the experience is up in the air right now. I’m not into the whole “walking around the old city” schtick like my parents are, and yet I do love a good drink. I’ll have to give it a little more time. I have a room filled with alcohol. I have reading material. I have a laptop with (moderately expensive) internet access. Hell, maybe I can meet one of these American visitor women, too, and not have to look like an idiot speaking French. Alright!
This Canadian Internet post is complete.