Dispatch From Québec - 1

I was off for Québec on Thursday morning, after an unspeakable 40 minutes spent at Coconutz the night before and a false « stay » - I was well decided to party with the boys a bit but the sight of Mr. Moto and his new bike, outside the club, drove me to hop behind him, and into the night we went.

Mr. Moto woke up on Wednesday with one goal in mind : to get himself a new bike. He took the first Orléans Express bus leaving for Trois-Rivière (6 :30 AM) and came back with a brand new Kawasaki, as green as his previous one, but infinitly much more kick-ass both in look and torqué. So after my evening at the office, I went home and he picked me up. We first headed to Marie-Ève’s – she now lives in this huge but decrepit appartment on St-Laurent, above the Inbeat store, where I used to DJ a couple of times – where we had a couple of beers and found an axe on her terrasse. We then headed to Lola’s, to find it partially empty. The drink menu made us au courant that they were fuckin’ expensive, but I still borrowed 10$ to get myself a vodka / bass. Von Party told me that Freeform Five were to perform there on Sept. 6th and I went nutz. The theme for the night was « Slut Party », due to the presence of Mark Slutsky as a guest DJ, but there were not too many sluts to be seen around midnight. 20 minutes later, Mr. Moto decided he’d had enough so I went to say my goodbyes, and they tried convincing me to stay. I agreed it would be nice and went to give back Mr. Moto’s helmet, and like a magnet I was stuck to his bike. Better for my mental health, if you wanna know. I still had my luggage to pack and anniversary wishes to transmit to Miss Bijoux !

Québec is like and old, dusty museum : you can’t touch things standing around you, most girls are still walking around in jeans featuring no pockets on the ass, and it’s tough for them to admit that you have the right to be « different ». Miss Bijoux is freaking out because people are constantly bargaining, asking for freebies, or not buying at all. This is not a good time for her.

After all, those are the people who voted conservative during the last elections.

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I basically spend my time alterning between a patio chair I set up in front of Miss Bijoux’ booth, reading THE EDIFICE COMPLEX and helping out. There’s a guy selling tamtams next to her place and he makes a whole lot of noise, but he’s a pretty cool guy. Some girls look good, but they’d look better if they had any sense of style.

We were freezing our asses yesterday, and the ridicule into which I was catapulted when I got off the car with my leather coat under my arm was no more. Lots of rain also fell down. As in « flood ».

Luckily, the park in which the expo is located, « Parc de la Francophonie », is a beauty. There’s a fountain, grass, rocks, pines, and sun. Kids running around. Old fellas watching the view – and the chicks. The average age of Québec citizens seems to be quite high. There’s youth, but mostly baby boomers complaining about their miserable existence. As an example, the artisan’s tent in which I am writing these very words, since I first set up a few minutes ago, has been invaded by grey haired witches, cursing after the wasps and smoking stinky cigarettes.

The bed & breakfast (La Bedondaine) in which we landed yesterday is supervised by a couple, the guy being the one serving breakfast, apparently, and his wife being the one who walks around with an icy look trying to terrorize us. She’s an « air bête » and I’m amazed that she has chosen such a profession. Other than that, I slept soundly, but Miss Bijoux was sick from the stress and the dubious amount of food she ate for her birthday dinner. I helped in getting her stuffed up and I regret not having been able to wake up in the middle of the night to confort her.

I don’t know what I’ll do for the rest of the day – I’m « free as a bird » - but I have to find Voir Québec and Québecscope, bus tickets, a coffee shop offering wireless internet, and entertainment. Mr. Finances is supposed to be here tomorrow, and Lester Black was supposed to pass by to say hello, but I still haven’t seen an inch of his leprechaun face.

I thought about visiting the Aquarium, or chilling in St-Roch’s public library, but what good would it be when I can pretty much chill anywhere in the sun ?

Now, if you Québec people could just stop screaming all the time and saying things like « codingue », the world would be an awfully better place to live in.