Yesterday I had a ladies night. Yes people, I actually PUT THE BOOK DOWN and went out after work and interacted with other human beings and everything. Sometimes I even amaze myself.
[Speaking of the book, I went to Indigo on my lunch break yesterday to pick up Eclipse and Breaking Dawn (books 3 and 4 of the addictive Twilight series, but I digress), and I swear, I must have seen 10 people pick up copies of at least one of the books within a 3 minute period. 5 out of the 7 people ahead of me in the check-out line were carrying copies of Twilight. Unreal]
[And while we're still on the subject, I thought I'd mention that thus far, I've successfully enabled 2 people (Kate-the-Enabler and Tamara) into reading the first book of the series. Well, technically 3 people, because Kate is - get this - reading it out loud to her husband Chris, at his request no less. Isn't that ADORABLE???? Seriously dude, you rock. Anyhoo, I think I ought to get a percentage of Stephenie Meyer's royalties this week...]
Right, going out. I met Jessica after work and we headed out to Ye Olde Orchard Pub & Grill for a pint and a meal, followed by my first glass of Jamieson whisky. You know how Buffy keeps having this spasm every time she takes a pull of Spike's flask in Life Serial? That's sort of how I felt about the Jamieson at first. But after a while, it sort of grew on me. We left at about 9:15, just as the band was setting up (to the chagrin of one of the musicians, who I suspect had his eye on the young and nubile Jessica).
From there we headed to McKibbins Irish Pub, for another glass of Jamieson at the bar (I didn't push my luck and had a Bailey's Irish Cream instead). Turns out Jessica knew one of the waiters (as she explained to me last night, apparently it's easy to run into people you know when you do most of your socializing within a tight 6-block radius), and he bought us each a shot (thanks Julian! Or is it Julien? I detected a hint of a French accent...). Turns out that vodka, as opposed to Jamieson, goes down quite smooth. You know, smooth like peroxyde.
By this time the evening was sort of winding down (for me, at least - see previous detail of alcohol consumption). Jessica had struck up a conversation with some older gentlemen from Halifax (they were in town to catch a hockey game - good luck!), and I realized with a start that it was past 10 o'clock. I started to pull on all my winter paraphernalia, when the bartender looks at me and asks if I knit the hat and scarf myself.
I froze. This guy's, what, 24? Cute as a button, to boot. And he's talking to me about KNITTING. "Um, yeah actually, I did!".
"Cool. Where do you buy your yarn?" he asks.
Again, I'm flabbergasted. He said yarn, people, not wool. Clearly this guy was in the know.
"Oh, there are a couple of places around town, I hedged. On St-Hubert (Effiloché), in the St-Jacques/Atwarer area (Ariadne)..." I trail on.
"Notre-Dame?" he says.
Turns out his girlfriend is the lovely, pixie-like Ophélie (to whom I've unfortunately never been properly introduced), and she works at Mouliné. He then starts to ask me if I'm on Ravelry, and whether or not I have a blog...
I couldn't believe it. We're taking over the world, people! Seriously, there's no place knitters can't get to. If there are no knitters in your immediate vicinity, you can bet your stash that one of their consorts are.
Happy Knitting Everyone!