Ground Repping with Breakaway is hard work.
Tons of shit went on... had to kick one guy out of the hotel because he threatened to stab his roommate. The guy's girlfriend, 17, insisted on going with him and screamed her grandmother into letting us release her into his custody. They insisted they had money, would get a hotel room, and head home the next day. In truth, they had no money, they froze their asses off on the sidewalk outside the hotel for a few hours until the cops came and carted them away. Meh.
There's a girl here who's fairly cute and seemed to be crushing on me a bit... damn rules that stop me from getting involved. I had to cockblock one of my underlings from getting a threesome... and I hated doing it. Alas, rules are rules, and there's a strict one forbidding fooling around with the clients. When I came back to him in the room, alone with two clients... I had no issue. When they left, only to return with sexy intent after I had crashed for the night... I had to break it up.
It is what it is.
Saturday, in many ways, went perfectly. I did over 12,000 dollars in sales and my till balanced down to the last penny. Then, when we went out to celebrate with a beer... we ran into drama and had to deal with that... no beer.
Good thing I picked up a sixer of Bud Light before I left.
There was an extremely self-concious American there. He feels guilty about being unable to speak french in Quebec. Then again, he thought the entire country spoke french. His heart's in the right place, and we had a decent discussion on politics for a while.
My SD card reader might be broken... which was a bitch for the bus ride from Montreal to Boston... I only had one new episode of Battlestar Galactica, and it was a really good one to boot.
The end of working in Montreal was pretty good. Last night I had an awesome dinner at the Hard Rock, indulged in bottle service, drank myself nigh-unconscious, had way too much fun with one of those party favour horn things, puked at the club(in the bathroom, no worries), saw nary a single girl I waneted to hit on, took a long cab ride home, accusing the cabbie of bilking my friends and I the whole way, pounded some Advil and all the water I could swallow, set the trash can by my bed and conked out.
I woke up actually feeling kinda okay, all things considered... but by the time I made the bus station, the hangover hit, HARD. I'm pretty sure I'm feverish, and I had nothing to eat until 8pm tonight because there was nothing I could keep down.
But god damn, that tea, cookies, and Excedrin combo worked wonders on me. Admittedly, wonders that are starting to wear off.
I'm crashing at my aunt's tonight. I won't be crashing the next two months here because there's family drama afoot... my uncle's brother is staying here... and having just recently met him... the words creepy as hell leap to mind. He was either drunk as fuck or he's even creepier than I feared.
Tomorrow it's off to Nana's. More as it happens.
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