My First Night on the Town

We live on the 11^th floor of a large apartment building. It has a spectacular view of the river and the downtown skyline. When David hauled all of our belonging across Canada, his mom was nice enough to come for the journey (NOTE: if you ever rent a U-Haul prepare yourself for the worst; our truck broke down outside of Saskatchewan and Dave had to repack almost everything in a smaller truck. The rest of our stuff was put on a Greyhound and we received it three weeks later. Still missing a large bookshelf, they are still working on our case. Curse you U-Haul, you dirty, dirty company!). Dave’s mom noticed a cooing sound coming from our balcony and, being as optimistic as she is, thought they were Quebec doves. Yes, Quebec doves because they have a slight accent. It turned out that the doves were in fact pigeons. There are TONS of pigeons that like to hang out on any rooftop or balcony that they can find. The result is bird poop all over our Rubbermaid containers and lawn chairs. David wanted to remedy this problem immediately and like any of us living in the 21 century, Googled his brains out. Solution: Dollarama snakes. I am happy to announce that this has worked fairly well. Who would have thought? 

It’s a good thing that I have a high tolerance level for pigeons thanks to Mo Willems.

I really enjoyed the walk to the Byward Market. We took our time going over the bridge. I loved taking it all in. You only get that first experience of wonder once so I wanted to relish it, plus it was super nice getting out of the apartment and having David there to soothe the Little Dragon when he got restless from being in his carseat. Man that kid hates being contained. David thought the Market was open until 6pm, unfortunately it closed at 5:30 and we got there at 5:25ish so I made a mad dash and got some carrots, potatoes, cucumbers and mini tomatoes.  Dave’s mom read me an article from the Edmonton Journal about the food industry, namely tomatoes and how growers are trying to get the flavour back. In grocery stores the tomatoes are all about the look and how long they can maintain that red glow but as a result the taste is compromised. It mentioned a farmer in Ottawa who is successful in getting the 1950’s taste back, the flavourful and juicy tomatoes like the ones grown in your Grandparents garden. These tomatoes weren’t grown by that particular fellow mentioned in the newspaper, but they sure tasted great. 

Here's a link to a similar article:

http://www2.canada.com/ottawacitizen/news/observer/story.html?id=8e53309b-f172-421f-8541-5d19096c8b23

David thought it would be a good idea to make a quick trip into the Rideau Centre to grab a bite to eat at the food court. Never go into the mall on a Friday, after school gets out, with a stroller. It is a triple-threat combination that equals madness and short tempers for everyone, including Little Dragon.  I would compare it to West Edmonton Mall easily. That’s how insane it was in there. I wanted to scream. I did not want to eat in the food court and nurse Little Dragon while a man who looked like a child molester sat next to us.

We got the food to go. David thought it would be a good idea to eat it at the university because it was so insanely busy in the mall. Only a short walk away, he tells me. A couple of blocks from the mall we find ourselves in the middle of a protest march. We have to go right through it to make it to the university. The people (mostly teachers I suspect) were protesting Bill 115 and for it not to be passed (something to do with some Dalton guy and it affecting Teachers and Teacher aids, etc). It was hard to hear what the lady was saying with the song “Raise a Little Hell” being blasted full volume through the speakers. We did get free t-shirts, hats and flags out of it though. We did not make it to the university and ended up eating our fish and chips on some grass next to the Rideau Canal being watched the entire time by a hopeful seagull.

After walking home and feeling very chilled due to the humidity, we stopped in the McDonalds to pay homage to Hannah (Dave’s sister who works at the McDonalds in Millwoods by the Grey Nuns hospital. If you are in the area, stop in a say “Hi”, she doesn’t get embarrassed at all!) And we got a little something-something. That something-something was a chocolate milkshake, which, yes, I know, it doesn’t make much sense because I was just complaining how chilled I was. Why would someone want to get something cold after whining about how frozen they are? I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t make sense. So sue me! An expression David reads about until his eyes bleed, poor guy.  It wasn’t even that cold out, maybe 6-8 degrees Celius, but I’m still getting used to the humidity that sneaks underneath your warm skin and chills the bones... can’t wait for winter. Back to McDonalds; Dave’s mom was telling be before that people in Ottawa/Gatineau were very friendly to her. This is very, very true. Okay, so here’s the setup: we walk into the McDonalds and I try to find a seat so I can nurse the Little Dragon without drawing too much attention to myself. I find a nice padded chair (cause it’s a smancy McCafe, right?)  and think that this older fellow, 40-50 sitting in the corner, wearing a blue collared shirt and this lady 25-30 in a stripped, brown and yellow collared shirt  will leave us alone. Stupid me. Side note: I thought the guy was a McDonald’s manager and the woman was a worker who was just chilling out on her 15 minute break. I am so judgemental. They both strike up a French conversation with David right away, asking about how old Little Dragon is and then, after finding out I only know English, switched languages so I can be included; lucky me. David went to order the shake and left me to converse with these strangers.

The lady turned out to be really cool. She had an Education degree and a Nursing degree and was recently employed by the government as a manager of a new Health Program which every high school (I believe just in Quebec) will have a mental health consultant/nurse at hand. I think this is a good idea as depression, suicide, drug abuse, bullying, daddy issues and self image are so common place amongst teenagers. Her English was phenomenal and I could only detect a slight French accent when she spoke. Okay, so way more educated than a McDonalds worker. I need to stop judging people on the clothes they wear. Sheesh!

The older guy was hilarious. He had a hardcore Quebecois accent when he spoke in English. He was your stereotypical Frenchie. He talked about how he really liked women, especially women who dress nice. A nice dress which accentuated her curves. He even mentioned that his ex-girlfriend, don’t forget the ex part, liked it when he dressed up. He asked both me and the other lady what we like in a guy. Do you like a guy in a suit? I told him men in uniform are nice to look at. He then was happy to let us know that he wears a uniform for work. A nice blue suit with a tie because he is a security guard. Sexy. Ha ha ha. It was too much for me. But then, he started singing. After he finished his song (another couple sat by us by then) the lady of the joining couple started clapping and said encore, encore. Needless to say she was in a wheelchair and slurred out those words. Frenchie guy told us that he can be found at a Karaoke place down the street every Tuesday. That’s where all of his friends go and they have a real good time. Tempting.

This is what Gatineau is all about? Really? Who would have thought a McCafe would be so entertaining on a Friday night at 8pm?