Le Drug

Oh oh catch that buzz
Le Drug is the drug i´m thinking of
Oh oh can´t you see
Le Drug is the drug for me
--Roxy Music (tweaked)

It is yesterday afternoon. I am staring out my office window thinking "I really don't want to be here" when I happily get the call:

"Salut, Rachelle. Nous irons au Drug ce soir, peux tu venir?"
"Absolument, mon amie!"
"Parfait, à cinq heures."

Doesn't my name sounds so much sexier in French? Oh, Rachelle! yum.

I check the clock. 4:30. Why hang out until five staring out the window when I can start the weekend now and be nicely refreshed for Monday? The logic I live by. With my files saved to my key chain, desktop shut down and my office door locked, I head to the metro. The Peel street platform is crowded and there are no seats to be had on the train. Obviously, I am not the only one who has decided to kick the weekend off early. Ah! I love Montreal.

Exiting at Beaudry, I stop off at the Couche-Tard for some funds then cross Ste Catherine and head East. We always sit on the roof terrace in the summer and though it is October, it is also 25 degrees. I know the roof top is where my friends will be. How easy it will be to find them is another story but I have more important things to worry about. There are six flights of stairs I must mount properly. Eye contact may be at a minimum in Le Drugstore but trust me, you have eyes on you as your muscles flex up those stairs. Ass presentation at this time is essential to later success on the dance floor. I remove the jacket from about my waste, tuck in my tummy and climb. Fridays are always my "ass pant" days and today I am wearing short pants. I do not miss the opportunity to exhibit my calves as well by pushing off each step fully. If I could get away with it, I would climb two steps at a time. Hopping and jiggling is for descents.

Four flights up, I see the gorgeous woman from my lesbian dinner club waiting for the loo by the hair salon. I am out of breath from the effort of holding in my tummy and climbing. She doesn't see me so, thinking I could pass by and find her later when I can actually speak, I continue climbing.

"Rachel, is that you?" Zuts! I turn around. "Oh, hi," is my casually panting reply. "Wow! I almost didn't recognize you. Are you okay? You look pale." Pale? "I'm fine. Just meeting some friends ..." "Are you sure? You seem really out of breath. Maybe you should sit?" She indicates a bar stool.

Yes, offer me a seat but not in this context. "No, no, no. Please I'm fine. I rushed here from the metro. Where are you ..." A bathroom becomes free. She looks longingly at the open door, "Oh, I really have to pee. If you are okay ...?" "Really, I'm fine." Though, no doubt no longer pale, I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I throw her a weak smile as she closes the tall orange door.

I climb, find my friends, uneventfully consume pitchers and then head across the street for some Vietnamese. Just after I pay my dinner bill, I feel a tingling at the edge of my mouth. Argh! Stupid deadlines, work stress and me for not eating enough fruit and having not gone to yoga this week. Double argh! My Zovirax cream is at the office. I feign fatigue, beg off dancing and cab it back to work. It is after eleven and my security pass no longer works. The security guard is friendly but no doubt curious as to why I woke him up for what appears to be a small tube of facial cream. Wide awake, I mentally tally the evenings successes and failures as I sign out on the security roster.

Using the Adventure Scale (see panel on right hand side) ...

• Le Climb **
• gorgeous noted I was out of breath but did not wonder if I had an injured leg :)
• Conversation with women of interest *
• Dancing (nil)
  
• Evil herpes virus! :-(
• Drinks offered to me by women of interest (nil)
• Drinks offered by me to women of interest (nil)
• Pick ups (nil)
• New contacts (nil)

Rachel **