Chapter 7: Top Five Reasons You Can’t Get Laid in Montreal
In the interest of helping my fellow men and women hook up more effectively, I've compiled the following list of helpful advice for the lovelorn. It consists of the top five reasons why anyone may find themselves without a date on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday night whilst living in the swinging city of Montreal―a city that practically demands that all dates end in sexual fulfillment for one or more parties―and offers practical tips on how to combat this universal problem.
I hope you find it enlightening.
So, without further ado, here are the Top Five Reasons You Can't Get Laid in Montreal:
You're anglophone.
And by this I mean “You speak English as your first language, even if you're actually completely bilingual, and your French is as flawless as your English, but your decidedly non-French last name always gives you away, Jones or Smith or even Goldstein.” It's racist, but then, that's Quebec. Anyone perceived as an outsider (even if you were born and raised in Montreal) is shunned. Bone up on your joual and you should be fine. Even faking a French accent will help. Try using the Monty Python-inspired line “Why do you think I have this outrrrrrrrrrageous accent?” if you can roll your Rs, or just give the haughty laugh if you can't.
You're a hipster.
Or you're not a hipster. Or you're not the right kind of hipster. Or you don't date the right kind of hipsters. Or you're a hipster who has fallen from grace. Or your hipsterism is showing when people are talking real, true emotions. Or your street cred is being challenged by other hipsters, and you are being overemotional. Hipster. Hater. Stop this metro right now and get the fuck off, because you will never win.
You're not sporting wolf-band facial hair (dudes only).
Obviously, this is a major drawback, both in a city that frequently sees -40 degree weather, and in the hipster-related offenses cited above. Wolf-band facial hair is REQUIRED, my friend. If you can grow it, the ladies will flock to your side. If you pretend you're actually IN a wolf-band, they will flock all the harder, sometimes rubbing themselves directly on your body in public, with the full intention of having clothed intercourse right there on the dance floor. Without the telltale sideburns, ironic goatees, or full-fledged lumberjack beards, how will the ladies know you are ready, willing and able? Signal your readiness for sex by growing the most obvious facial hair you can, and consider yourself in business.
You're not breathing (ladies only).
Seriously, is there any legitimate reason why any able-bodied lady is not getting busy in the oversexed city of Montreal? I think not. If you're out there, whether clad head to toe in an animal-print fur poncho or working it with your skintight spandex, you are prime for the fucking. The only possible reason for not getting laid is you have passed out, face-down in a gutter, and have frozen to death. And even then, I'm sure there will still be some takers. Continue to breathe, and the menfolk will come. And come. And come.
You're not even trying.
Get out there and mix with the animals! Everyone has to visit Peel Pub (where they recycle their food and their drinks) and Peel Street's bars like the cougarlicious Thursday's at least once in their young (or not-so-young) adult lives. Your wallet will probably be stolen. You will certainly overpay for your drinks. You will get wasted, possibly even shitfaced, and may wind up puking your guts out in the most disgusting toilet Montreal has to offer, but at least you will know what it means to PAR-TAY. Also, you might get laid. But if you're not even out there, on the coldest nights of the year, chatting up the eligible ladies and gents, then how the hell do you expect to get in the game? You've got to be in it to win it, as they say. Lucky in lotto, unlucky in love, so get your ass out from behind that video poker machine and start hustling on the dance floor. (Do not, however, dance The Hustle, or you will find yourself alone and lonely for the rest of the evening.)
Additionally, the following are absolutely NOT excuses for not getting laid in Montreal:
Being too drunk
Being too high
Being irritating
Being French
Being English
Being American
Being from a foreign country of ill-repute
Being from a foreign country of no repute
Being from a foreign country of reputed repute
Being vegan
Being underage
Being creepy
Being unattractive
Being boring
Being rude
Being otherwise involved in a romantic entanglement (or three)
Having a yeast infection
Having an STD
Having a harem
Having harem pants
Having a baby
Having three babies
Having a cat you talk to like a baby
Having a baby-daddy
Having a tiny penis
Having a bed-wetting problem
Having trouble communicating in either official language
Having a weird and/or possibly illegal job
Having a deadline to leave the country that you've actually broken
Having committed an outrageously horrible crime, blamed it on your then-lover, and gotten out of jail in Ontario, only to move to the much more “tolerant” province of Quebec
Not having a car
Not having enough money to go out on a date
Not having proper oral hygiene
Not having your own apartment
Not having a job
Not having any social skills
Not having rubber sheets
Not having enough sex toys
Not having the key to the set of handcuffs strapped to your bed
Not having enough change to buy a condom in the bathroom
Not having enough change to ride the metro
Not having enough class
Not having a little red Corvette
Not having a proper bed
Not having proper manners
Not having Propa pH
Not having a good time
Not having good game
Not having big game
Not having any game
Not playing board games
Not playing head games
Not playing reindeer games
Not liking Ben Affleck
Not liking Casey Affleck
Not liking Casey Kasem
As you can see, this list could go on forever! If you aren't committing any of these transgressions and still can't seem to land yourself a date, please re-read the original Top 5 until the source of the problem is located. If all else fails, post yourself on the nearest street corner and ask men or women if they'd go out with you until you hit upon a taker (or are struck by an especially offended citizen). Good luck, and happy hunting!