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03 February 2007

quiet corners over epic quests

Last night at the Buddhi Lounge. A low-lit, orange-hued virtual basement apartment. A sectioned off room insulated with baloons of various sizes. Biere blanche in intricate, German steins and pyramides du chocolat resting on a terrain of blue rock sugar. In the holographic gold bathroom, Dumbo was playing on a flickering screen, while paintbrushes waited in water dishes for impromtu decorating. A dj played serenely in an alcove, while a group of girls chatted over apple-flavoured sheesha in the corner.

"Est-ce que c'est votre premier fois ici?" asked the owner.

"Do you like this place? It's a baby still, only 5 months old!"

This place is a hidden gem. We paid our tabs in an apartment kitchen-turned bar. I gaped at all the jars of tea piled up on the shelves. I want to go back for the ethiopian coffee ceremony. I want more of those chocolate pyramids.

A recent re-thinking of social outings after one confusing night of bar-hopping that ended with this statement:

"Dallas, I made a list of places we should go, and this was not one of them. If this keeps up, I"m never going to find an indie-rock boyfriend!"

This is what happens when hipster culture goes too far. Or when you put a group of twentysomethings together who all have varying bar agendas. Trying to form a cohesive group out of a motley crew of individuals is like insisting that Ned Flanders, Paris Hilton, David Suzuki, Courtney Love and Fran Drescher agree on a definition of "fun." C'est impossible! First of all, when did going out start to be more about choosing places that meet specific criteria than looking for decent music and a few laughs. I guess this is how and when various social backgrounds are brought to bare.

Beyond the obvious scope of Montreal nightlife there are nifty little open mic nights, dives with dirty blues bands, and arts and crafts nights (where beer meets beading). The modest places are the hidden gems. When I go out I like to be surprised and thrilled by the night. If I wanted a predictable evening, I would stay inside, away from the howling winds. I like diversity of patrons over prestige of clientele, unusual beverages over high-priced cocktails, and most certainly, spontaneity over a meticulously-executed night.

In other news, I may or may not have been on French CTV last night. When approached by a francophone journaliste and cameraman yesterday, I froze in front of the lens like a deer in headlights, and ignored the internal voice which yelled "you're not good at French." Somehow I still stumbled to answer a rapidly-delivered question which I believe had something to do with politics. It later occured to me that they may have been asking about racial politics in Quebec, while my bumbling rant discussed only Dion and environmental politics. Oh, the shame, the shame.

As for tonight, I have a date with Opera Montreal. And this time I've finally found some people to go with. The last time I went, it was to Opera Hamilton and I was sandwiched between two hacking and wheezing geriatrics! Tonight is Lakme, and I can't wait to hear the famous flower duet.

My camera will be arriving back from Canon any day now, so pictures to come.

4 comments:

Jess said...

Am I Courtney Love? I want to be Courtney Love!

Or maybe not. She's crazy. I'll be David Suzuki. He's smart, and probably enjoys beer-beading as much as I do.

Dallas said...

Ha ha only Flanders was a direct reference, the rest were arbitrary characters. But you can be Courtney if you want!

I hope tomorrow night it plasticine (sp)or painting at craft night :)

Aruna said...

Any night can be surprising and thrilling as long as you bust the "bum-look-self-touch" dance move right? Maybe you should teach it to people in Montreal. Not sure how successful it will be in attracting the indie-rock variety of male though.

Dallas said...

I will definitely have to bust out that move again one day soon. Are you coming to Montreal next weekend?