This past weekend I visited Canada’s answer for diversity, otherwise known as Windsor, Ontario.
If you’ve never been there, I’m referring to the over abundance of different ethnic groups.
Now, first I should explain that I have no problem with any ethic group. This blog isn’t going to be about tearing any culture apart or really anything like that. I was just pointing out that there’s a lot of them.
It’s kind of like how, in Mongolia, the population of Horses out number the population of humans. Not sure if that’s true, but I read it in an Uncle John’s Bathroom reader, so it seems legit.
NOT SAYING THAT THOSE PEOPLE ARE HORSES, but wouldn’t that be fucking awesome! I city ran on horses! Horse bus drivers, horse bankers, horse doctors, horse police officers…wait, are the horses that the cops ride on top of considered police officers?
I lived in Windsor last year for roughly 4 months while working at the local Blackburn radio branch. I never used to drive a car there, preferred public transit a lot more and if you’ve ever had to drive through Windsor, you know exactly why that is.
I went to Windsor to see a good buddy of mine, Jay, because he was getting married to another good friend of mine, Jessica. I couldn’t make it to his bachelor party so I thought a night of poker and heavy drinking downtown would have to do.
When I did have a car in Windsor and was dropping by Jay’s place, I usually park at a parking lot across the street from their apartment building. This parking lot, just like every other one in Windsor, was a pay parking lot, but I didn’t pay…not because I think I’m hardcore, because I didn’t have change and I never used to pay there.
Remember that I didn’t pay.
After winning the poker game, where the payout wasn’t money but rather just beers at the bar, we all headed dt (that stands for downtown, not Ducktales like I had once thought).
At the Honest Lawyer’s in Windsor there’s a guy who works behind the bar and is kind of a douche. You know those bartenders that flip bottles and what-not? They’re pretty badass….BUT, the bartenders that TRY to do that but fail…well they try their hardest so I can’t hate on them.
However the guy who was behind the bar last weekend was a tool who THOUGHT he could do crazy shit like that, but couldn’t, and he had the cocky attitude as if he could…YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!
My buddy and I were waiting for a beer, APPARENTLY behind the section of the bar that they don’t serve, which I didn’t think existed. So instead of telling us that when we first got there, he had us wait forever and THEN tell us that he couldn’t serve us at where we were standing.
After awhile we went to this place in Windsor called the loop. Now if you’ve been there than you’re either….
A) a hipster
B) a person who enjoys dancing uncontrollable to songs that were hits 30 years ago
or C) you’re not a douche that judges people for dancing uncontrollably to songs that were hits 30 years ago.
At one point in the night I was trying to request a song that I didn’t know the title to, but I was trying to sing it out. This song doesn’t have “lyrics” per say, but rather just an Italian man rambling of words and phrases that very well could be in Italian but the fuck do I know? I don’t speak Italian.
Sweaty, sweaty balls ensued…
Time to head ova to the golden arches and pick up a 10 pack of chicken nuggets.
Fuck ya, chicken nuggets.
Now we’re walking back to crash when I went over to my car to grab my bag…remember when I said I didn’t pay the parking ticket? Yeah, you probably know where this is going…
If you’re thinking I got a fat ass ticket…well…you’re wrong. These assholes sidestepped that and went right to “Let’s tow this mother fuckers car!”
Yep, my car got towed as well as my bag with my smokes and contact stuff in it.
Great. Do you know how hard it is to sleep, on the floor, after a night of drinking, your car is towed, you have no smokes and your contacts are still in your eyes?
It’s very fucking hard.
I just remember trying to pass out watching the last half of Austin Powers: Goldmember…did anyone find that movie funny?
Jessica, the angel she is, loans me her smoke pack. I attempt to kill time, at 4 in the morning, by hanging out on their balcony.
Which is an amazing balcony!
Just look at this fucking view of Windsor/Detroit.
So now the Austin Powers movie is over and I still can’t even begin to drift off. JUST THEN, a legendary voice came on the TV and said the most glorious words it could have said it that moment…
“Coming up next on (TV Channel I can’t remember)…Die Hard with Bruce Willis”
I wasn’t tired anyway.
I spend an hour or so watching that movie and finally around 5:30 I pass out.
Wake up and get a ride to get my car out of the lot. 120 dollars later, I realized that it would have only cost me 3 dollars to park there and instead I’m out 120 bucks.
Does anyone else do the thing where when they’re out a certain amount of money they think of all the things they could have bought with that money? I’m not talking about bills and rent and shit, I mean like those new shoes you wanted, that video game you were gonna get or even that set of Miracle blades from that infomercial you love.
I’m driving back now thinking of my stupidity when I get a text from Jessica asking me where I left her smoke pack from the night before. A moment of thought passes, which tends to last 2 or 3 minutes, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out her smoke pack.
Now, I feel like garbage, not only was she nice enough to loan me them in the first place, but now I pretty much stole them from the bride-to-be.
“Sorry, Jessica! There in my pocket, I really didn’t mean to do that. I feel like shit!”
I would have returned them but I was already 45 minutes outta town.
(Isn’t she a doll?)
“Enjoy the dub that’s in there too J”
This was my face after I read that text.