.st hubert

Just got back from Montreal. For the sake of brevity, I'll tell you my favourite story of the weekend. There are many more.
Last night, 3:15 am. Five of us decide that a rave would be a cool way to party the last of the night in the city away. We get to the after hours club, and cover is wickedly expensive. The five of us, in the bitter cold, decide to head in anyway. They search all of our bags completely, unzipping pockets, emptying wallets, everything. Feel any part of our bodies where drugs could be concealed.
2 straight guys, 3 girls. Get in there, and as expected, the lighting is surreal, the music so loud that the vibrations could be felt in the air between your fingers if you relaxed them. Looks fine and dandy. Then, the small party looked around. There is a problem.
We're surrounded by about 90 half naked, oiled bodybuilders. Some in leather, many kissing. It's a gay rave. The look of shock and slight panic on the [straight] guys faces was priceless. So, what's a couple of lost, stupid anglos to do?
Dance til 8:00 am, I suppose. I'm still sore where a body builder accidentally elbowed me.