75 cents?????

Arriving back in the hole after my time away was rather a harsh let down. It felt as though I had been dropped ten feet from the cloud I was on, and landed on my ass.

Victoria was awesome. (To say the least). I was placed in charge of the travel arrangements (buses) because I was the only bloody Canadian there. We all met downtown at the hotel Vancouver because some of us were already in the city. Thankfully, I avoided embarrassment and angry companions by successfully predicting bus times and remembering numbers and we arrived at the Tsawwassen terminal, the planned hour ahead of time.

The ferry ride was rather relaxing. The boys and myself went and braved the decks where we chatted and sunned ourselves while the girls chilled inside and slept (Ginger who had just done a graveyard shift, was onto phase two of delirium, uncontrollable and unnecessary laughter at anything, and everything).

After our ferry ride, we caught a double decker bus into town where I attracted the first of my many weirdos, a man who sat behind me and talked to himself or an imaginary friend for the whole bus ride. He was either drunk, or mentally challenged. I personally think he was a little of both while the others argue either way. We met Raj at the municipal pool, and we hopped into her van where we heard the newest addition to her CD collection for the first (and let me tell you, NOT THE LAST) time.

We then proceeded to Walmart where Ginger had her first Hicktown Canada experience, complete with the mullets and fake nails. While waiting in line to pay the very eighties Mulletesque female cashier for our Beyonce poster (Raj’s present), Ginger turned to me and exclaimed “Now that, my friend, is Walmart hair.” She was very pleased with her all-inclusive Walmart encounter.

That night we headed to The Red Jacket, a club where running shoes and non-collared shirts (for the boys) were not accepted. We arrived to discover, the cheapest drinks known to mankind.

Flashback: Queen of Vancouver Island,, somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, 1:30 pm: Raunchy Paunchy: “Mix, what should I drink tonight? What is my drink of choice. Oh I know what it will be, Gin and Tonic. I’ve been drinking that lately.”

Mix: “Yeah, sounds good to me. That’s what I’ll be knocking back as well. Tonica is definitely my fave…”

Fastforward: The Red Jacket, down town Victoria, BC, 10:30 pm: Raunchy Paunchy: “Mix…OH MY GOD!!! Check it out!! Seventy-five cent gin and tonics!!!”

Mix: “Holy shit. Mother of god. Does that mean that doubles are a dollar fifty???”

That is exactly what it meant. TGFTT (Thank God For Thirsty Thursday)!!! I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited in my life. For those of us who were used to the Hole’s $4.50 singles and $6.50 doubles, this truly was a gift from above.

The Whistler crew went rampant. At least 9 doubles and a China White later (plus the vodka that was knocked back before hand), I began to regret having found the $0.75 drinks (until the morning when I woke up to a pocket full of change. Something that had never up until that point happened to me after a night on the town).

The night is a complete blur and the five of us are still trying to piece together the events of the evening. I am told that we went for pizza after the jacket. Although I can picture the pizza place in my head, I have no recollection of actually eating pizza…although I do have a burned tongue, and this, I believe would explain that. I don’t remember going home although I do remember that we had the same taxi driver both ways. Something that has never happened to me. I definitely do not remember changing into my pajamas and climbing into bed next to Ginger and I fear that I may have, in my drunken state, stripped down to nothing and changed in the middle of Raj’s bedroom in front of all. I don’t think I have anything to worry about though, see as the others cannot remember the trip home either. Raunchy Paunchy woke up in her normal sober state and said, rather cheerfully, “Good morning. …………I’m in my clothes. Why am I in my clothes? Oh no. It was her wasn’t it?” (referring to her alter ego, Raunchy Paunchy) “Oh god. I’m having drunken flashbacks. Who was the boy?”

Mix’ list of things that she actually REMEMBERS from The Red Jacket:

1. CHEAP DRINKS!

2. The hotty who she danced with, and then lost.

3. The circus freak.

4. Paunchy’s Pash

5. The midget (every time I saw the midget, I thought there was another level. Hugh seems to think that he has seen at least one midget at half the clubs he’s been to. He reckons that every club has a resident ‘rent-a-midget’…good one Grant).

6. The fish tanks (there were fish tanks behind the bar, something that I think every club should have. It adds personality).

7. Looking for hotties and realizing that the guys we were with were the only good looking ones in the club (rather a let down see as they are virtually untouchable).

8. Raunchy approaching Hugh: “Hugh, just thought I would massage your ego, Raj’s pal thinks you’re very cute and was disappointed when I told her you had a girlfriend. Now, to bring you down a bit, her sister thought you and the Prospect were a gay couple.”

9. Uuummmm…trying to remember…hold on…yeah that’s about it.


Needless to say, a good night was had by all, and no complaints were heard the next morning when us three girls woke to a massive breakfast being prepared by Raj. We had a selection of: Eggs, bacon, toast, English muffins, banana bread waffles, chocolate milk, orange juice, and to finish it off, her mother made us Chai tea. When we were reunited with the boys later that morning (they stayed with another mate), they were running on empty and were rather disappointed (to say the least) that they had missed out on our little feast.

Moment of the morning: Raj’s father asking Paunch (who, if you do not already know, is Australian) if she knew the Crocodile hunter personally. Nuff said.



After a close call at Swartz Bay, we made it on the 1:00 pm ferry, and made our way outside to the top deck where the chilly ocean air did our hangovers a world of good. Hugh and I proceeded to attempt to teach Ginger French.



Ginger’s choice French Phrases:

1. Je pense tout jour. (I’m always thinking)

2. Tu pense tout jour. (You’re always thinking)

3. Je parle tout jour. (I talk all day)

4. Tu parle tout jour. (You talk all day)

5. Scotty n’aime pas (Scotty doesn’t like that)

I must say, I am rather impressed with Ginger’s French accent, despite her disability (Australian accent).

I played the roll of hermit for the day, carrying my house on my back, while Ginger, Hugh and I trekked around downtown Vancouver gathering various necessities and window shopping while waiting for Paunch to finish her marathon shopping spree.

That night we went out for a farewell dinner for Paunch at a Mexican joint called Margarita’s down on 4th and Maple, after which my friend Tooshen picked me up to go and meet the boys from back home who were in town for the night.

Later that night, I sat down at Kits beach on a rug that one of the boys brought down from his house to sit on (for some reason) while the others stumbled around drunkenly and it hit me that I may never see my Whistler friends again, and tears welled in my eyes. It was also brought to my attention that, after a season in Whistler, I don’t enjoy hanging out with my boys from home as much anymore. I still love them and they are still my really good friends,it just seems that while I have done a world of growing and maturing here in the mountains, they only seem to be getting younger. I felt like I was babysitting.

After that dinner I had to say goodbye to three of the wickedest (only word to describe) and weirdest people I’ve ever met. Paunch, Hugh and the Prospect, it has been a pleasure, to say the least.

Paunch, have the best time ever and try not to fall off the ship on one of your drunken conquests. Behave.

Hugh, Although the story is not finished, I already miss my drinking buddy. Such is life. See you in July.

The Prospect, Well…it’s been…interesting…to say the least. Give Glancy one for me. Keep in touch, and look me up when you get to the UK. We’ll go for tea and crumpets…

And so, my Whistler chapter is coming to a close. This whole season is one drunken blur, but I have, thank god, not done anything too stupid. Although there are some things I would do differently next time around, no regrets.

Things are different around here and it is beginning to feel like the beginning of the season again when I spent most of my time alone because I didn’t know anyone. A time when I had a lot more money.

A quiet ending to a loud story.