Bill's stag - The Second Day

After some frankly farcical attempts at getting some sleep after the first night shenanigans the team eventually re-gathered one by one (much to the irritation of the waitress) at “Café Imagination” (which was somewhat of a pleasant surprise in light of Walkup’s advice to meet at “Café Mage”).

Suitably fuelled with scrambled eggs, bacon and orange juice (about 5 gallons thereof for Maddox) they decided to go Go-Karting. Montreal is blessed with the largest Go-Karting track in North America and the boys were very excited, although struggling through hang-overs, on arrival with some quite remarkable claims for domination of the track.

The stag was rather handed a bum steer with a kart that stalled every time he turned left whilst our subject demonstrated some real class to end up with the worst time (slightly over 6 times the lap record and double the nearest slowest time) but also managed to sneak one quick lap in to end up second on the grid for the main race.

The race itself rather resembled a game of bumper cars with Oren in particular smashing into our subject with remarkably free abandon at least once a lap much to our hero’s (and his physiotherapist’s) irritation. Indeed so angry did he get at the constant rubbing that under a yellow as Oren sought to indicate his appreciation for the competitive, and quality, nature of the driving he ended up being subjected to a torrent of abuse.


With Oren, our hero and Walkup contesting the lead (and all lapping Skinny Chris and the others with gay abandon) the race was a roller-coaster of exciting moves and passes. At the flag our hero was shaking his fist in celebration convinced he had won but as the computer revealed he came a distant second to Walkup, a fact that he took around 6 hours to accept.

Having cleared the heads through the medium of petrol fumes they hit a bar for lunch and to start the process all over again but despite the temptation of drinking on through sensible heads prevailed (clearly not our subject) and whilst people headed off for assorted naps, swims and trips to the gym Bill, our hero and t’other Chris headed up the Mountain (the Mont that gives Montreal its name). To find a mountain in the middle of a city is always rather an odd experience but it does have the advantage over more remote mountains of having a road (and therefore taxis) that lead to the top. They did at least have the decency to walk down.




With the exercise out of the way a quick shower followed before the evening kicked off in Globe. Now as our readers will know we are loath to promote or advertise on this site (unless the kickbacks are suitably generous) but on this occasion we feel constrained to make an exception if only to acknowledge the remarkable recruitment processes that this restaurant clearly engages in. To describe the waiting staff as attractive would sell them short. Of course the usual level of maturity to be expected on these occasions was demonstrated and Oren, Maddox and our hero in particular took to encouraging the ladies to lean over for the (décolletage) viewing pleasure of the table.

Surprisingly no coronaries ensued and after a very fine meal the boys decamped onto the streets to enjoy the cigars that Maddox had kindly sourced for the evening. After some time wandering the streets, smoking and looking like right charlies, they descended on an enormous beer garden and settled in for some quality drinking.

Our hero quickly lost patience with pouring the beer from the pitcher into his glass and took to drinking by the pitcher load direct from the pitcher.

Meanwhile a table of girls next door had clearly been following a similar course and as one of them passed out face first into the table her friend sat quietly next to her puking out of her nostrils and into her hands. A truly beautiful vignette.


Having marked t’other Chris’s birthday with a rousing chorus of the appropriate song (joined in by most of the revellers in the bar) the decision was taken to move on. Our hero dashed to the toilet and on his return noticed that the staff were just clearing up a near full pitcher from the table. Horrified at this waste of fine beer he quickly dashed in to rescue the same and despite the frantic cries of said staff quickly started downing same. About half way down the penny dropped and he turned to Bill and uttered, “I’m drinking slops aren’t I?”.

With that he considered his work done and bidding Bill and the others good luck headed back to bed. He awoke about 30 minutes before Bill and Maddox got in.