Sometimes it's a train trip and a plane trip. 3000 miles to see a band and hang out with your buddy that you haven't seen in 6 months. But it still feels like a road trip. It has that familiar sting:
This is what happens when you disparage the Quebecois. They are a feisty bunch.
This is the happy couple: we only remember Jean's name.
It looked like it was going to be a quiet night for us, with most of Banff trying to deal with their St. Patty's Day hangovers. We headed to the Rose and Crown for a pint and some billiards ... The we met Little and Big John, a Scot and an Englishman, respectively, who both live sorta near Birmingham. Shropshire, I think. They kicked our ass in pool. Then we drank some more. Then they kicked our ass some more.
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We made it down to the Magpie and Stump (with Little John, Big John went sleepy-bye-byes). Peanut throwing ensued.
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John made a new friend. [singlepic id=35 w=500 h=332 float=]
... who felt compelled to pick me up ... and then call me a fat ass. [singlepic id=36 w=500 h=332 float=]
Phaux drank a caesar. Which is like drinking a cappuccino after noon. Caesar are a gross take on a bloody maria, with Clamato (yes, clam juice) instead of tomato juice. [singlepic id=37 w=500 h=332 float=]
John notices Noush, who was pretty hot. [singlepic id=38 w=500 h=332 float=]
Noush's rejection of me (her boyfriend was the bartender) shamed me into passing out. [singlepic id=39 w=500 h=332 float=]
Shots with staff ... [singlepic id=40 w=500 h=332 float=]
Dancing with the waitress ... first me, followed by John almost pulling her arm off. [singlepic id=41 w=500 h=332 float=] [singlepic id=42 w=500 h=332 float=] [singlepic id=43 w=500 h=332 float=] [singlepic id=44 w=500 h=332 float=]
I know we're not supposed to get sappy on a road trip, but Banff just brings out the girl in me. Ten years ago, when I left Banff (and the girl), my housemates took me out on my last night for fondue at the Grizzly House. It's a Banff institution, once it was a rocky mountain themed disco. Anyway, coming back here (I avoided it on all my previous returns to Banff with various girls) got me a little misty eyed. Eh. Anyway, this is one of those Banff "must-do's". The food is just good, not great, but you can't beat the atmostphere. And table-to-table calling.
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The cheese fondue ... [singlepic id=28 w=500 h=332 float=]
The sauces and the meats ... [singlepic id=29 w=500 h=332 float=]
The bison head, available for purchase for $4000. Really. [singlepic id=30 w=500 h=332 float=]
When I lived in Banff in 2000, I came to love this place like almost no other place on earth. I remember crying when I left that spring for the last time. Part of it was the girl (Yes, Kaylee, you), part of it was the house (Gus, Guy, Christie, Eric, Krissy, Jane, Margeaux, Julie and, sometimes, Chris), and part of it was how the town brought out smiles and love in everyone who came through, whether or not they were tourists, residents, or temporary workers. Last night brought back those memories ... what a night. Where to start ...
We tried to go to the St. James Gate, but the line was not moving. While we were in line, this cute blonde was smoking behind us, by herself. More on her later.
Instead of waiting in the not-quite-bitter-but-still-scrotum-tightening cold (which makes me wonder, are scrotums and nipples made of the same stuff?), we headed to the Rose and Crown, a faux English pub.
Yes, it's St. Patrick's Day, and we're celebrating it in an English Pub. Oh Well. Much, much more after the break...
We played pool for a bit ... won our first game, got destroyed the second time around, by Agrologists. Is that the science of being Agro?
We also talked to the only other non-Asian minorities in Banff.
When the one man show started, we didn't know what to expect. In the end, this guy was funny, talented, and rockin'.
The crowd swelled and we were now in a very warm, very packed bar.
About that time, I noticed a super cute blonde at the turn by the stage. She was sitting with a slightly less cute friend, AKA the grenade. I took Phaux out for a cigarette, and explained to him that his duty as a wingman was to fall on the aforementioned grenade. At this point, we re-evaluated the grenade, and determined that she was in fact a mortar shell.
Anyway, this is Phaux finishing doing the worm to an Irish Jig, in order to impress our targets. Take that, River Dance!
Shortly thereafter, I did the superman across the laps of our targets.
The mortar shell did not explode on impact, but started ticking.
The girls kiss ... now the question becomes, is this an opportunity for a three-and-a-half-some?
I believe that her arms are thicker than my legs.
This is actually the cute one ...
Using the headband as a prophylactic ... Am I Macguyver or what?
Some other drunk annoying girl tried to enter the mix and was denied.
I got a little too fresh and Leslie revealed that she had a boyfriend. Ugh.
After I playfully rubbed a dirty bar rag in her face, she returned the favor ...
Followed by straw sillyness ... at this point we've each had a few beers, a couple shots of Jamesons, and about 4 Jagerbombs. Yikes.
We show off our Rock Band skills ..
Unfortunately, I am not that flexible.
I promised penetration .. and here it is .. full on nostril-rape.
Apparently, the nostril-rape was a big hit ...
That was the last we saw of those two (well, almost ...) ... but after a quick smoke, we ran into the blonde, Haley, who was in line (at the beginning of the post, keep up!). Her friend with the faux-plastic-barbie look was less memorable.
Phaux found a new object of his affection, Holly, with an H.
Haley goes for the nuzzle.
Then Holly looked like she was going to collapse, so we high tailed it back to our hotel before we got accused of dropping roofies.
When I got back to the hotel, I realized I still had Leslie's ring ... oops.
Awesome night ... thank you gods of the road trip, you came through again.