Next Year, Same Spot - But in the Meantime, Infinite Sadness

The sad thing about Piknics is that they always come to an end. Towards the end of the summer, the sun disappears faster than usual, and we're left in the dark. The music's still on, but the faces become blurry, and our hearts start aching.

Piknic has been very good to me, at all times. Especially this summer where the sun was seemingly shining every Sunday there was, striking hard, illuminating the dancefloor with its warmt, and driving me to cover my skin with sunscreen. Smelled nice. And the smiles, mini skirts & bikinis made the day. Made MY day, anyway.

It was a slightly different story on Sunday. I heard the cars roll on Sherbrooke St. through a couple of milimeters of water - that was actually the first sound I heard when I woke up - and I knew the day was going to be fucked. It was 2 PM, and I didn't feel like a million bucks. Mr. Bérêt was still there, on a bare mattress in my spare room, looking devastated. I had a coffee and showered, and we headed for Club Sandwich to get some grease in our organism because we were truly about to die.

We sat & ordered, and I had another coffee while we waited for our food. And waited. And waited. Passing by, a new waitress called Jacynthe almost made me fell off my banquette. Holy fuckin' crap. My kinda girl : black hair, slut make-up, BIG breasts. Her tight black t-shirt made me drool. I know her name because I asked around, being my real predator self. We finally got our food after waiting for nearly 40 minutes while a cute, tall, bubble-butted brunette mopped the floor.

Geez, I really have to congratulate the new guy who's hiring the employees.

When we were done, we got the fuck out, because I was starting to shake after my third coffee. We went back to my place, where I took a shower and made a dozen phone calls. Then we went to get food & Guru at the grocery store, and picked up Miss Singer. And off we went to Ste-Hélène island.

The first sign it would be a nice one, despite the shitty weather, was that the parking lot employees were gone, when we arrived at 6. 12$ in my pocket and the satisfaction of being fashionably late. On the gravel road leading to the site, there was nobody, but the music was pretty fuckin' loud, so it seemed odd. But we found out what was going on upon entering the Place de l'Homme : EVERYBODY was on the floor, fists raised. Yeah baby, Champion was chillin' 'em...

It was rather crowded for a rainy day, but it was the last one, so come on... and dance !

I saw Mr. Moto with his cougar, and then I saw Mr. Electricity (new here, but a familiar face at Piknic, with his warm smile and big heart) with one of his exes that was "à croquer". Black haired and REAL cute. I found all my friends and we waited in the rain, as it started pouring heavily, like some drunk god's piss. Champion as a DJ was quite good, but I wasn't really "in the mood" to dance, even while drinking my first Guru. So I popped open a bottle of Rev, and it felt better.

By the time Leo Cruz took control of the decks, around 7, I was on the floor, feet naked on the soaked rug, ready to rock. Cruz was mellow at first, soulful even, and the energy level came down quite fast. However, I knew he'd know how to raise it back quickly. And I was right; by the time I drank my 2nd Rev, acid tech had taken control of my feet and things were lookin' good.

I saw the tall girl from Nostalgia who had left with the Atari geek. I saw lots of friends, and I was drinking vodka / Guru glasses one after the other. Got very, very drunk. Miss Singer looked happy to be there, and we were kissing on the floor like youngsters. Some guy gave me tickets for François LeBaron's birthday bash @ Living, along with Éloi Brunelle, three times in a row. The Piknic team had set up some amazing special lightning, illuminating the trees surrounding the site in red, white & blue. I heard there were some fireworks at the end, but around 10:40 my legs gave up and we left.

Another magical moment was over. I had trouble coping with the fact that lots of people I know were there, and that I wouldn't see them again for a couple of months... because we always only meet at Piknic ! All these Sundays shared, and the cold reality coming back at the end of september to bite you in the ass : time for school, winter, cold, and our pointless existence to resume.

I couldn't sleep all night because of all the uppers I drank. Miss Singer came to my place for the night, but she left at 3, because she kept hearing beats even as she tried to sleep.

So in the end, I didn't cry on the dancefloor as promised, but I should have, because it's a pity it's over.