Wednesday, February 20th
Kim and I adore kids. Every baby is quite happy around Kim. Me not so much. It may be the beard, glasses or eye patch, not really sure? Even “Baxter”, as original drummer JBels calls him, wouldn’t come near me for a while. Now he’s a big suck to both of us all of the time, unless there’s a rawhide around.
I did some BBQs for M&M Meat Shop. Rob got me the job, I think it was the summer of 1999 or 2000? Rob and I were doing a BBQ at Wascana lake for some festival or something like that, he was on one side of the lake and I was ways away at the same side of the lake down the shore line. I had one of those huge Gatorade containers in the backseat of my Tempo. We took a lot of precaution and layered my backseat with big green garbage bags. I drove as slow as possible. None of that mattered. When I stopped to get it out of my backseat there was raspberry juice everywhere. Rob’s “Cousin Dave” as we called him took it one evening to have it detailed. Couldn’t even tell there had been red juice all over my backseat.
I only worked one summer for M&M, should have kept working for them, I got paid to eat. As many burgers as I liked, within reason.
February of 1999 was our first reading week in university. Rob, Dave and I drove to Banff for that week. I got to sit in the back with a guy who was looking for a ride to Calgary. Rob and Dave thought he might be a serial killer and forced me to sit with him. I met him a few years later when I knew Chris Messer, a mutual friend of ours.
The three of us stayed at the Y Mountain Lodge. The cheapest place we could find. For some reason we let Dave mix our drinks? Why oh why? Bad move by Rob and I, we both had rum. Bacardi White for me and Captain Morgan’s Spiced rum for Rob. Dave mixed them backwards though, a shot of cola and a glass of rum. We all had our own night. Rob was first. We went to a bar at 9pm and walked Rob home shortly after. “Captain Morgan’s kicks ass!” Rob would scream as loud as he could. It must have been around 9:15pm or so and Rob said to Dave “I puked on my pants” not only his pants but a pool table on his way to the washroom.
Dave and I walked him to our room, telling him not to act drunk when we got to the lobby and waited for an elevator. It was pretty much a hotel with communal washrooms. I think Rob sat down next to our door, because he needed a break. At some point Dave and I were smacking him to wake up. We got him into the room and he asked us if one of us could “put his contacts in their home”. I have never had contacts before, Dave had them though. Dave got to touch Rob’s eyeballs and didn’t like it! After what seemed like forever everything was good. Dave and I went back to the bar after we got Rob into bed.
Surprise! I don’t remember much of my night. I know I smoked a lot of cigarettes that I got from the girls down the hall from us that we had gone to high school with. I bought them each a pack the next day. I was throwing up all night “I’m a machine” blah, I was yelling all night. Dave was worried he’d wake up to the room covered in puke. I didn’t spill a drop. I filled up our garbage can, so Rob swapped it for another in the bathroom. When I was done I had filled 1 ½ garbage cans of vomit. We all dyed our hair as well. I picked Corvette red that faded to Flamingo pink, and a blue chin beard, Dave had bleach blond hair and Rob had blue hair and blue dye down his neck. Our friends down the hall just had to ask the bouncer at any club if someone with red hair and a blue chin was at whatever bar to find us. I know Dave had his night, I don’t really remember it though. He had vodka and Coke and let Rob and I mix his drinks.
My night was before the day we were supposed to go skiing with another Dave who is now Rob’s brother-in-law. I was far to hungover to do anything, I slept in, bought the girls cigarettes and went to find a place that served breakfast at 2pm.
When I got home I was wearing a fisher men hat that said Banff on it. We pulled into my parents driveway, mom and dad came out to welcome us home and my mom said “Nice hat” so I took the hat off to reveal my pink hair and she yelled something like “Holy Crap!” so everyone on our street could hear it.
I had to work at the Delta hotel the next day. So I had to bleach my hair so it wasn’t pink and shave my tiny beard.
“Hubby Boo Boo” aka Christopher
P.S. What a waste of time and money???!!! Go ahead and separate then, make your own currency, have everything in french, pretend you’re France and consider yourself a country in the middle of Canada and take all of the french street names out of Manitoba? Everybody happy now? 48% of Quebec would be! I don’t speak Italian either! Maybe I should file a complaint too?!