Hooker Love

We were sick of this fucking rain. After half an hour of trudging around in our sopping clothes, our clothes weight down by wetness and our souls weighed down by disappointment, we found a Starbucks. We hopped inside to use their wifi, searched for a hotel and found one that was reasonably priced. There was a laundry facility we could dry our shit in - perfect. The only problem was that the distance between us and the hotel.

We went outside and flagged a taxi (another culture-shock moment for me: flagging taxis had always been a luxury that could only be afforded by actors in movies) and took a thirty dollar ride to the ghetto outskirts of Montrèal.

The place was truly rundown. Fat, questionably pregnant black and women and scrubby, mustachioed Frenchmen roamed the cracked sidewalks, muttering gruff commentaries. The taxi driver (courtesy of Hades who, even with his mangled brain, maintained an incredible sense of generosity) deposited us at the hotel and drove off.

We soon found that the hotel was full, despite our call confirming vacancies an hour earlier. Bullshit. We recalled another motel that wasn't too far from here, so we made the moist journey there. Our discovery was unpleasant - the hotel was twice as ugly and twice as expensive, and there was no laundry facility. Our two options were to either book a room here, or pay another thirty bucks to go back where we'd just come from.

Hades booked us a two-man room and the four of us snuck in. We hung our clothes to dry on every table, cupboard, heater and surface in the room, effectively transforming the vicinity into a humid stench-pit. Once we were nicely settled in the pungent atmosphere, we began flipping through the TV channels. French, French, French... and... what's this? There's porn on public TV? And it's... English? Great! Even if it hadn't been English, everyone understands the language of pleasure, so we left some grubby trailer park porn on for a while before Hades got really horny and kicked us out so he could order a hooker.

Alright, cool. Everyone needs to get laid. Me, Fern and Squanch left the room somewhat haughtily and went to go kill some time. Hades had paid for an hour with his hooker, so we spent an hour idling in a nearby park, talking to Frenchmen who were doing the same thing that we were. Once we decided we couldn't chat up foreigners (locals, I guess - we were the foreigners) or watch birds any longer we headed back to the hotel and knocked.

"Uh, come back in a bit.""

Fifteen minutes later we knocked. There was no response, so we peeked through the window and had to duck for cover as we were shot with the gleaming full moon of the hooker's bum. Sshe was leaned over Hades in some position that looked both uncomfortable and impossible, but she didn't seem to think that was nearly as funny as we did. She gave a frightened shout and slammed shut the blinds as we hustled off, for fear of her (or her pimp's) rage. We sat in a bush opposite the room, watched a black BMW pull up five minutes later and drive off with the girl, then let ourselves back into the dank atmosphere. Hades was elated.

"Wow, I think she really liked me. She was like, really nice, and she liked me." Nice - Hades was learning how to speak again.

Fernweh scoffed. "She's just doing her job, buds."

"No, I know, but, I'm pretty sure she really liked me..."

Fernweh shook his head. Me and Squanch sat down before realizing how drunk we weren't and convinced Hades to front us a box of wine. Under any other circumstance (considering Hades had just burned a hundred bucks getting us to this safe, dry area) we wouldn't have considered asking for a loan, but the alcoholism was beginning to take a tax on us. Mornings, prior to our first sips of liquor, had become lethargic and unpleasant.

He agreed, I went to the store and picked it up. As I returned to the hotel carrying the wine, I realized that I'd been looking at the situation backwards. I wasn't holding the bottle - the bottle had a hold on me. I contemplated smashing the wine on the pavement to prove a point, making a concrete decision to stop drinking, but I used my better judgement and took it back to the others.

Tensions alleviated quickly - Fernweh and Hades were having civil conversations, even Squanch had loosened up a bit. It seemed that Hades had begun to learn how to speak again (though it's possible the alcohol was simply dumbing the rest of us town until we felt balanced.) He kept mentioning how much the hooker had stolen his heart and how he hoped he'd see her again.

Two hours later, Fernweh and Hades were watching porn in the master room while me and Squanch made our own porn in the dark on the bathroom floor. The sex - purely physical - was uncomfortable, awkward, and full of later regrets, though in the drunken time-being I had no complaints.

Once we'd finished we discovered yet another stint of Hades' generosity: he'd sported for Chinese food. I busted out the remainder of my ghost peppers for me and Fern to chomp on, we promptly munched our way into a sweaty, agonized state of satisfaction. With our bellies fed and our senseless arguments defeated by alcohol, we all crawled onto the bed into a massive cuddle puddle and let ourselves dream of the dry clothes we'd have tomorrow.