After the huge blizzard of yesterday (we got walloped for sure - 13 inches of snow in 24 hours), I was listening to some poor sap across and down the street from me try and get his car out of his parking spot. I could hear the tires spinning madly, the whine of his transmission in reverse, and judging by the sound of it, the fruitless attempts at getting out of his space on the ice-covered street.
That got me to thinking about one ridiculous week when I lived on Montreal about a lifetime ago:
It was summer 1999 or so. Things at home weren't going so well with me and my girlfriend at that time. We had sort of devolved from lovers to roommates, and well, our writing was on each others walls. At the same time, I received an offer I couldn't refuse from a big media company, and moved out to Montreal for a very cool, very high paying gig. This was the stepping stone for my career, and with the obvious monetary enticements made it impossible to refuse. My girlfriend and I of course made the obligatory efforts to be together (while living 3000 miles apart) and each of us spent hundreds of dollars on long distance, burned up the internet with very inappropriate emails, and flew back & forth across the country a few times in the months that followed our separation. We both knew though, that we were running out of gas - but with best efforts and a lot of time & energy already invested in each other, we were reluctant to finally pull the trigger. A few months later though we finally ended it, But that story is best left for another time.
During that winter, Montreal had their worst storm in years (not withstanding the crazy ice storm of 1998). This particular storm though, was epic. Biblical. Snow & ice like nothing I'd ever seen. People couldn't even walk on the sidewalks, there was so much ice. I went to a movie with someone from work, and by the time I got out of the theatre 2 hours later, there was literally 2 feet of snow on the ground. I lived about 12 minutes from the downtown core on just off Sherbrooke St. and that evening, it took me over an hour to get home. Crazy doesn't even begin to describe the weather. Crazy does though, start to describe the week of madness that followed. Here's a brief run-down of what happened.
I'd started dating a publicist who was self employed, worked from home, and was an absolute creature of the night. My working a day job meant absolutely nothing to her and her schedule. Between her (expensive) nocturnal meanderings, all set in a city whose bars & restaurants don't close at ANY time particularly because of the weather, plus she lived on the Plateau, and I was out west in Notre Dame de Grace, that week started with long nights of drinking, then back to her place for some more 5 AM silliness. The problem was 1) the weather, and 2) the company I worked for had a strict 8:30 - 6:00 policy. Meaning that if you were late, you'd better have a much better reason than just the penultimate blizzard of the decade to keep you from coming into the office on time.
MONDAY: I got home VERY late Monday night / Tuesday morning after another night of cocktailing / fooling around with said publicist, and of course I slept through my alarm. I woke up late for work, and looked outside to see that we had gotten a huge amount of snow overnight, and to make matters worse - Montreal's crack army of snow removal machines had run up and down my street and the snowplow had piled up snow to the height of my driver's side door handle, making it impossible for me to get out. I knocked on my landlady's door, and mimed borrowing her snow shovel. (She spoke no English, I didn't speak enough French to know the words "snow shovel" so I smiled, and mimed the appropriate gestures). I dug out the car, called work, told them I'd be late as I got snowed in, and then I was off. Got a few raised eyebrows from my bosses (there were 3 of them) that I was late, while no-one else was.
TUESDAY: Went out with the Publicist again. Got all sexed up, staggered home again very late, and sure enough, another overnight blizzard happened, and I had to borrow the shovel and dig the car out again. This time though, yesterday's snow had melted into thick black ice, and even though the way was clear for my car to get out through the snow and onto the roadway - I was completely stuck. On the flat ground, with a rear-wheel drive car, on black ice, and spinning madly. Nothing could get me to go forward. People were walking by ignoring me (stupid French), and no-one would help to give me a push. I wound up phoning work saying I was going to be late (again) and called a tow truck. The tow truck eventually showed up, he took one look at the car and said "You don't need a tow". I told him that I knew that, but I was stuck on the flat ice, and so he jumped into my car trying to free it, and had the same result as I did. So, he backed behind me, put his front bumper to my rear bumper, and pushed me forward all of about 3 feet till my tires could grab a purchase on the traffic worn concrete - so 1 hour and $45 later, I was on my way. I also got chewed out too for being late 2 days in a row.
WEDNESDAY: Another huge overnight dump of snow. Again, the crack snow removal dept of the City of Montreal had barricaded me and all the other cars on the street wheel-well-high of plowed snow. I got up early though, mimed & borrowed the shovel, and after digging the car out AGAIN (and stupidly parking in the exact same spot overnight as before) got stuck in the same ice on the same flat ground. I couldn't move at all. Complete black ice. The tire & traffic worn (and traction giving) tread ways of the main road were just a few tantalizing yards away from where my car was, but that bare stretch of road might have been in outer space for all that mattered. I called the office, saying I was going to be late (again), and then called the tow-truck again, the SAME guy came by from yesterday - looked at me, chuckled, and put his front bumper to mine, gave me a 6 foot push onto the bare street, charged me another $45, and off both he & I went. I got into work, got yelled at for being late 3 days in a row.
THURSDAY: Of course it happened. The 4th huge snowstorm in 4 days - I borrowed the shovel, and dug the car out again, and yes, I was stuck. Again. So I went upstairs, called work, and told them I was going to be late (again) and then called the tow company. Last nights storm had been so bad though, that it was at least a 2 hour wait for a tow truck, so I finally snapped and gave in to the Snow Gods. I called a taxi, and told him to take me to Canadian Tire in Cavendish Mall. The cab eventually showed up, and off we went to buy those collapsible metal things you can put down in front of your tires so when & if you're stuck, you can just pull them out of the trunk, and conveniently lay them down in front of your traction giving tires, then conveniently drive away. I made him wait out front while I ran in and got them, came back and jumped into the back seat and told him to take me back to my place.
We were in the cab driving back towards my apartment, and had stopped at a red light, probably about 4 cars back from the intersection. I was in a volcanically shitty mood, and glaring out the side window cursing anything that moved, knowing I was in the total shit at work. After a while though, I realized that the cars in the lane beside us were moving and we weren't. I looked up at the cabbie, and in the rear-view mirror saw that he was fast asleep. Near as I can recall it -the chain of events went like this:
- At the intersection was a Mailman who had been waiting to cross.
- At this moment, I was looking up at the driver, seeing him asleep in the rear view mirror, and yelling "Hey! Wake Up!"
- The Driver woke up with a start, and in an instant realized where he was, saw the green light, and hit the gas.
- At that exact same time - the Mailman assumed that our car had stalled or something, so he decided to walk across the intersection in front of our non-moving car.
- We then proceeded to run over the Mailman.
Me: "WHOAH!!!"
The Mailman: "EEEEEK!!!" (Or possibly AUGGGHH!!! That moment is open to writer's interpretation - as it happened pretty quickly).
Me: "HOLYFUCKINGSHITSTOPTHECAR!!!"
I jumped out, and was amazed the Mailman wasn't badly hurt. It turns out that he either bounced off the front end, or what I really think is that he fell in the very deep, soft snow and the front tire passed right over him without injury. I made sure he was still breathing, and when he was fine, I helped him up, brushed off the snow, and double checked that he didn't have a compound fracture or anything. It was only after a few moments, when my taxi driver (who had remained in his car the whole time) pulled up alongside of us, rolled down his passenger side window where the Mailman and I were standing, and started to swear at the Mailman:
The Cabbie: "Hey, Tabernac! You dented my Car! Ostie! Sacrer! Crisse!"
So I threw $20 onto the seat, and decided to walk home from there. I got home, and sure enough, those metal traction things worked like a charm. I drove out of there, got to work, and someone asked me why I was so late. I just replied "Nothing really, I just was stuck". I didn't think anyone would believe me.
FRIDAY MORNING: It didn't snow. I had parked my car in another place on the street, and that morning was able to pull right out, and make it to work on time for the first time that week.
FRIDAY EVENING: Dark, -20 degrees or so, after leaving the office, I walked to my car which was in a parkade in Old Montreal, and with a nice, warm, "thank God this week is over" kind of thing happening, I opened the car door, sat down, turned the key and
*click*
The battery was dead.
It was that moment when I realized that life was bigger than me. And, within a year, I had left Montreal, and returned to the West Coast to start all over.
That got me to thinking about one ridiculous week when I lived on Montreal about a lifetime ago:
It was summer 1999 or so. Things at home weren't going so well with me and my girlfriend at that time. We had sort of devolved from lovers to roommates, and well, our writing was on each others walls. At the same time, I received an offer I couldn't refuse from a big media company, and moved out to Montreal for a very cool, very high paying gig. This was the stepping stone for my career, and with the obvious monetary enticements made it impossible to refuse. My girlfriend and I of course made the obligatory efforts to be together (while living 3000 miles apart) and each of us spent hundreds of dollars on long distance, burned up the internet with very inappropriate emails, and flew back & forth across the country a few times in the months that followed our separation. We both knew though, that we were running out of gas - but with best efforts and a lot of time & energy already invested in each other, we were reluctant to finally pull the trigger. A few months later though we finally ended it, But that story is best left for another time.
During that winter, Montreal had their worst storm in years (not withstanding the crazy ice storm of 1998). This particular storm though, was epic. Biblical. Snow & ice like nothing I'd ever seen. People couldn't even walk on the sidewalks, there was so much ice. I went to a movie with someone from work, and by the time I got out of the theatre 2 hours later, there was literally 2 feet of snow on the ground. I lived about 12 minutes from the downtown core on just off Sherbrooke St. and that evening, it took me over an hour to get home. Crazy doesn't even begin to describe the weather. Crazy does though, start to describe the week of madness that followed. Here's a brief run-down of what happened.
I'd started dating a publicist who was self employed, worked from home, and was an absolute creature of the night. My working a day job meant absolutely nothing to her and her schedule. Between her (expensive) nocturnal meanderings, all set in a city whose bars & restaurants don't close at ANY time particularly because of the weather, plus she lived on the Plateau, and I was out west in Notre Dame de Grace, that week started with long nights of drinking, then back to her place for some more 5 AM silliness. The problem was 1) the weather, and 2) the company I worked for had a strict 8:30 - 6:00 policy. Meaning that if you were late, you'd better have a much better reason than just the penultimate blizzard of the decade to keep you from coming into the office on time.
MONDAY: I got home VERY late Monday night / Tuesday morning after another night of cocktailing / fooling around with said publicist, and of course I slept through my alarm. I woke up late for work, and looked outside to see that we had gotten a huge amount of snow overnight, and to make matters worse - Montreal's crack army of snow removal machines had run up and down my street and the snowplow had piled up snow to the height of my driver's side door handle, making it impossible for me to get out. I knocked on my landlady's door, and mimed borrowing her snow shovel. (She spoke no English, I didn't speak enough French to know the words "snow shovel" so I smiled, and mimed the appropriate gestures). I dug out the car, called work, told them I'd be late as I got snowed in, and then I was off. Got a few raised eyebrows from my bosses (there were 3 of them) that I was late, while no-one else was.
TUESDAY: Went out with the Publicist again. Got all sexed up, staggered home again very late, and sure enough, another overnight blizzard happened, and I had to borrow the shovel and dig the car out again. This time though, yesterday's snow had melted into thick black ice, and even though the way was clear for my car to get out through the snow and onto the roadway - I was completely stuck. On the flat ground, with a rear-wheel drive car, on black ice, and spinning madly. Nothing could get me to go forward. People were walking by ignoring me (stupid French), and no-one would help to give me a push. I wound up phoning work saying I was going to be late (again) and called a tow truck. The tow truck eventually showed up, he took one look at the car and said "You don't need a tow". I told him that I knew that, but I was stuck on the flat ice, and so he jumped into my car trying to free it, and had the same result as I did. So, he backed behind me, put his front bumper to my rear bumper, and pushed me forward all of about 3 feet till my tires could grab a purchase on the traffic worn concrete - so 1 hour and $45 later, I was on my way. I also got chewed out too for being late 2 days in a row.
WEDNESDAY: Another huge overnight dump of snow. Again, the crack snow removal dept of the City of Montreal had barricaded me and all the other cars on the street wheel-well-high of plowed snow. I got up early though, mimed & borrowed the shovel, and after digging the car out AGAIN (and stupidly parking in the exact same spot overnight as before) got stuck in the same ice on the same flat ground. I couldn't move at all. Complete black ice. The tire & traffic worn (and traction giving) tread ways of the main road were just a few tantalizing yards away from where my car was, but that bare stretch of road might have been in outer space for all that mattered. I called the office, saying I was going to be late (again), and then called the tow-truck again, the SAME guy came by from yesterday - looked at me, chuckled, and put his front bumper to mine, gave me a 6 foot push onto the bare street, charged me another $45, and off both he & I went. I got into work, got yelled at for being late 3 days in a row.
THURSDAY: Of course it happened. The 4th huge snowstorm in 4 days - I borrowed the shovel, and dug the car out again, and yes, I was stuck. Again. So I went upstairs, called work, and told them I was going to be late (again) and then called the tow company. Last nights storm had been so bad though, that it was at least a 2 hour wait for a tow truck, so I finally snapped and gave in to the Snow Gods. I called a taxi, and told him to take me to Canadian Tire in Cavendish Mall. The cab eventually showed up, and off we went to buy those collapsible metal things you can put down in front of your tires so when & if you're stuck, you can just pull them out of the trunk, and conveniently lay them down in front of your traction giving tires, then conveniently drive away. I made him wait out front while I ran in and got them, came back and jumped into the back seat and told him to take me back to my place.
We were in the cab driving back towards my apartment, and had stopped at a red light, probably about 4 cars back from the intersection. I was in a volcanically shitty mood, and glaring out the side window cursing anything that moved, knowing I was in the total shit at work. After a while though, I realized that the cars in the lane beside us were moving and we weren't. I looked up at the cabbie, and in the rear-view mirror saw that he was fast asleep. Near as I can recall it -the chain of events went like this:
- At the intersection was a Mailman who had been waiting to cross.
- At this moment, I was looking up at the driver, seeing him asleep in the rear view mirror, and yelling "Hey! Wake Up!"
- The Driver woke up with a start, and in an instant realized where he was, saw the green light, and hit the gas.
- At that exact same time - the Mailman assumed that our car had stalled or something, so he decided to walk across the intersection in front of our non-moving car.
- We then proceeded to run over the Mailman.
Me: "WHOAH!!!"
The Mailman: "EEEEEK!!!" (Or possibly AUGGGHH!!! That moment is open to writer's interpretation - as it happened pretty quickly).
Me: "HOLYFUCKINGSHITSTOPTHECAR!!!"
I jumped out, and was amazed the Mailman wasn't badly hurt. It turns out that he either bounced off the front end, or what I really think is that he fell in the very deep, soft snow and the front tire passed right over him without injury. I made sure he was still breathing, and when he was fine, I helped him up, brushed off the snow, and double checked that he didn't have a compound fracture or anything. It was only after a few moments, when my taxi driver (who had remained in his car the whole time) pulled up alongside of us, rolled down his passenger side window where the Mailman and I were standing, and started to swear at the Mailman:
The Cabbie: "Hey, Tabernac! You dented my Car! Ostie! Sacrer! Crisse!"
So I threw $20 onto the seat, and decided to walk home from there. I got home, and sure enough, those metal traction things worked like a charm. I drove out of there, got to work, and someone asked me why I was so late. I just replied "Nothing really, I just was stuck". I didn't think anyone would believe me.
FRIDAY MORNING: It didn't snow. I had parked my car in another place on the street, and that morning was able to pull right out, and make it to work on time for the first time that week.
FRIDAY EVENING: Dark, -20 degrees or so, after leaving the office, I walked to my car which was in a parkade in Old Montreal, and with a nice, warm, "thank God this week is over" kind of thing happening, I opened the car door, sat down, turned the key and
*click*
The battery was dead.
It was that moment when I realized that life was bigger than me. And, within a year, I had left Montreal, and returned to the West Coast to start all over.
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