Breakfast of Champions
Not far from the depths of Montreal's downtown core is a small breakfast joint that serves its eggs and bacon with style. At Serveuses Sexy waitresses are rumoured to be tired, old, and most notably, topless --if nothing else it's a cultural experience.
When we rolled up late this morning the curtains were drawn, as they always are, and we couldn't see if the place was ouvert or ferme. My boyfriend and I walked in and asked a manager if they were still open. The manager looked at me and smiled, he had to be nearly 70, and motioned his head to the other end of the restaurant.
Just come on back, he said in french.
My boyfriend laughed and told him that no, she isn't applying for a job here. Are you still serving breakfast?
Oh, said the man, dejected. No no, we closed at 2.
So we drove on in search of a different breakfast place, and arrived at some ol' regular restaurant where the serving staff was fully clothed. BORING.
I was so hungry that I annihilated my meal in about a minute. Sorry that I was too singularly focused for a before shot. Pain doré all the way.
We also stumbled upon the most absurd mural. Harry Potter, Hagrid, The Mask, and Eddie Murphy...huh? I don't see the connection but fill me in if you have a theory.
Yeah, it's daylight savings, and yeah I'm gonna have to wake up one hour earlier tomorrow morning, but there are things to be celebrated amongst the suffering. I have found tubs of $1 frozen yogourt at my grocery store and even more auspiciously there is sun in Montreal right now. And when I say sun I don't mean that deceiving kind that signals negative drops in temperature so low that precipitation isn't possible --I mean the warm, normal, vitamin D bearing kind. Take that Seasonal Affective Disorder!
PS -- This was the subject line for an email my mother sent me yesterday: "Explain the, "I got punched by bums" post on your blog"
They love me!