Summer fun in Montreal - June 2009: I

[+ newatthis]

This is more a personal reminiscence than a report on what's happening in the clubs -- be warned!

A week in advance. I set up a Monday appointment with D, a favorite escort. M, another favorite who left the business a year ago, has taken it up again; we have a provisional arrangement that needs to be firmed up. I email 2 dancers who appealed to me on my last visit. G responds immediately; there is no reply from T.

 

Sunday. My customary flight departs 45 minutes earlier than it used to. Perhaps for that reason, or perhaps due to the recession, there are only 9 people aboard, more like December than June. A packed jumbo jet has touched down just before us; with only a Sunday skeleton crew on duty, it takes 40 minutes to get through customs. I opt to wait for the shuttle bus, which stops at the Sheraton, saving enough for an extra dance or two in the clubs.

 

I unpack, change into shorts (the weather is gorgeous and warm), and head out to the ATM. I request the machine limit, $500. A long wait, and then: "technical error." Move to the next machine and try again. New message: "your withdrawal has been refused by your institution because it is over your limit." Move to yet another machine. Try for less. Same "over limit" message. I pull out my cell phone. After 30 minutes dealing with a moron at my bank, I finally snag a supervisor, who explains that my first "technical error" request debited my account by $440, triggering the subsequent "over limit" messages. $60 is all I can get before midnight. She can file a claim for the money that was never dispensed, which may (!) – in 3-5 business days – result in a provisional credit to my account.

 

I'm not cash-starved at the moment – I brought a lot of Canadian money with me – but I'm worried at the prospect of recurrent "technical errors" leaving me stranded without cash later in the week. (I have credit cards, but I have no idea what their PINs are, so I can't get cash that way. And many of my activities have to be funded in cash.)

 

Back at the hotel I start phoning. A message for D with my room number for tomorrow. Dancer G is more complicated, since we've had only 2 minutes of in-person conversation and never discussed privates explicitly (though it's clear enough that he does them). I need to talk about details – what he does, what he charges – and I do not want to do this over the phone. There's no answer and his voice mailbox is full – looks like he's another flaky dancer. But a minute later he gets back to me. His prepaid plan is out of money, but his phone still shows received calls. He's spending Father's Day at his parents', meaning Tuesday is our first possibility. I make it clear that I need to get to know him better before I commit to anything. That might be possible this evening; he'll call between 7 and 8.

 

Finally M. He had written that he was free most of the week, but could be called into work on as little as an hour's notice. Monday and Tuesday look out of play and I want to leave the end of the week open for unplanned adventures, so I suggest he come right over – but he has just sat down to a late lunch. I definitely need to do Campus this afternoon, but won't stay for ladies' night, so we agree on 10 pm. I head over to the Village with a good start on the week.

 

Ste. Catherine, now closed to cars, has a reasonable number of pedestrians at 4 pm, but I wouldn't call it crowded. I walk down to Adonis. At this early hour, there's only 1 dancer. So back up the road to Campus, where there are lots of dancers, including gorgeous, straight Tristan, the tennis pro. I spend a lot of time at the bar with R and eventually offer him some $10 dances – only to discover that there's no longer a $10 option (the sign says "Dances - $20 per song"). We negotiate a deal. Just after committing to him, I meet Sam, who is so much cuter and sexier that I immediately regret my haste. R is no more than OK in back; he isn't able to stay hard. He whines for a tip afterwards; I resist the temptation to explain why there won't be one. I search out Sam; when I finally nab him, I learn he’s straight. (In fact, most of the Campus dancers today seem to be straight.) I'm not taking a chance on that, cute though he may be. I hang around a while longer, then recreate a pleasant memory from last summer with a tropical Bellini and some nachos at Vallarta. On my way home, G calls; he can't get away tonight, but will call tomorrow morning to arrange a time to talk.

 

I haven't seen M for close to a year. He looks just as good as he did then (he says I do, too, flattery which starts our evening out on a good note) and is sporting five o'clock shadow ("so you'll know you're kissing a guy"). It's comfortable and lots of fun with him – we know each other's turn-ons and make the most of them. Afterwards he's happy to lie/sit around and chat. As we part, he suggests I give him a call if I feel like a drink or dinner later in the week – his time is pretty open.

 

Monday. I awaken feeling like there's a big black cloud over my head – worries about money. I anxiously try the ATMs again; this time everything works smoothly. Whew! I head into the Village to have breakfast at Autour d'un Pain, my favorite bakery.

 

G calls while I'm on the metro, but we get cut off. He tries again during breakfast, apologizing for having trouble finding pay phones. I suggest he come over to the bakery; he estimates it will take half an hour to get there. Fine, I’ll wait and read the paper. He calls a couple more times to update me on his progress – this kid is definitely into frequent contact. We sit outside with coffee and chat. He's very energetic and upbeat and loves to talk (which is what first attracted me to him), mostly about his addictions, his treatment, and his family. He shows me 5 new pairs of Ginch Gonches, a gift from a client who manufactures them. Finally he moves the conversation to details. He’s straight, but not limited in what he’ll do, though he does have a sliding scale with bottoming coming in at a whopping $300. His other rates are more reasonable. We agree on early Tuesday afternoon; he'll call first to confirm. His communication mania continues; soon after we part, he texts me to let me know his phone is again functional and to thank me for the coffee.

 

I have just enough time to get ready for D. It's instant lust with him, and I find myself being more directive and aggressive than usual. We fall asleep for a while, then shower and go to dinner at our favorite restaurant. I hear more than I want to about his family problems. He has to be at work early tomorrow, so doesn't accompany me to Campus after dinner.

 

Tommy plops himself down next to me at the bar – he doesn’t remember my name, but does remember my massages and asks for one. His accent is so thick that I barely understand anything he says, but he’s so adorable and sexy that I don't care. He's terrific on stage. He flits back and forth, and I’m sorely tempted to take him to the back, despite being played out from D. There are quite a few other nice looking dancers tonight, including Mikey, Cal, Galliano, Rafael, and a new Chris.

 

Around 9:15 I take a stroll down Ste. Catherine – both the street and the restaurants are pretty empty. I see Diego, formerly of Taboo, outside Stock; he tries to drag me inside to do a dance with him. Chris, who has just finished his Campus shift, is also outside – can't tell if he’s hanging out with his friends or also dancing at Stock. No point in going to Adonis; after 9 it’s ladies' night. Instead I go back to the hotel to do some online reading and writing. (Sheraton wifi costs a fortune in the rooms, but it's free in the lobby.)

[Guest Michaelnc]

Great report! Makes me miss Montreal even more than usual.

[+ newatthis]

Summer fun in Montreal - June 2009: II

 

Tuesday. Breakfast as usual, then to the Botanic Garden – the roses are in bloom, and I explore some sections I’ve never seen before. On the way home, I draw more $$$ (ATM still working!). And the rate is going down, so will skip a day before my next ATM visit. Hot, sweaty, and tired, I call G see if he minds postponing; we reschedule to 3:00.

 

I manage to find a free wifi network accessible from my room and check craigslist. TR, a former Gaiety and Remingtons dancer who advertises on Rentboy, is offering a special today and tomorrow: $100. He doesn't list his name, of course, but I figure it out by googling his phone number. This is too good to pass up. We agree on 3 pm tomorrow; I’m to let him know by 11 whether I want an incall or a more expensive outcall.

 

G arrives 20 minutes late after both texting and calling for directions – he seems to be direction-challenged. He carries all that energy and loquaciousness with him to bed – a real chatterbox. Worse, his main topics are women and how much money he makes escorting. Although he looks barely legal, he's 28; he should have gotten over this by now. But he's not a scammer; he delivers on everything promised with no prompting or hesitation and doesn't watch the clock. He just doesn’t have much finesse. (I think a lot of his talk is masking insecurity.) TMI continues while we're showering – for example, he tells me how turned on he got when a woman peed on him. I’m not anxious for him to hang around – my enthusiasm has worn thin. He wants reassurance that he did a good job; it's hard to give anything better than a lukewarm response.

 

G's antics have left me yearning for some adult companionship, so I leave a message for M suggesting breakfast or dinner on one of my remaining days. Then to Campus. They seem to have cornered the market in tall, nicely proportioned, lanky, swimmer’s-build guys. I count at least 5: Skyler, Mikey, Sébastien, Karl, and Alex. Lots of others, including Alan, Galliano, TJ, Gillier, Francesco. No one is doing anything but the Stock shuffle, though, and no one has a personality that attracts me – they seem devoid of affect while on stage.

 

I'm about to leave when next to me a voice pipes up “don’t you remember me?" It’s T (who never answered my email) with a little more hair and little less weight (verging on gaunt, but still nicely muscled). He hasn't read his email in a couple of weeks. At least he has some personality. When he moves over next to me, I can’t keep my hands off him – he doesn’t seem to mind. He's still dynamite on stage, and not just in comparison to his colleagues, who are dancing duds.

 

When he finishes, I ask how late he’s working (thinking that I might come back after dinner). His reply: “I was going to stay till 11, but could leave at 9 if it's worth my while.” He asks me to walk him to Quizno’s; he’s starving. On the way I ask what’s on offer – meaning what limits does he have. He misunderstands and names a price. He says he’s bi, but sleeps more with men than with women. I must look leery, because he immediately pulls out his cell phone and offers to call a client who can give a testimonial. We leave things open; I have his number (same number he had the last time I was in town, a good sign).

 

Off to dinner in town. M calls back about my invitation. Do I mind if his boyfriend comes along to dinner? I say that might be awkward, since I didn't really plan on treating 2 people. No problem; they'll pay for themselves. We'll do it Thursday and touch bases then to decide where and when. The night is so beautiful that I walk the 45 minutes back to the Village and settle in on a bench opposite Campus. There are quite a few customers and dancers going in and out, but I’m not tempted, even with T still there. The only thing ruining the evening is the mosquitoes. I think about walking down to check out Taboo – tonight is again ladies' night at Adonis. But on my way I lose interest. Instead I watch a group of break dancers for a while, then head back to the hotel.

 

Wednesday. The Fête Nationale, St. Jean Baptiste. My bakery is closed, so I go down the street to Régis' place (La Mie Matinale) for breakfast. It's more fun there than at Autour, watching Régis insult and flirt with his customers, but also quite a bit more expensive. Call TR and get directions to his place. Hit the Contemporary Art Museum. Back to hotel to clean up. While there, I set up a 1 pm session tomorrow with T. Remembering how unreliable he was on my previous visit, I ask him to call and confirm at 11 am – I don't want to sit around waiting if he isn't going to show up.

 

TR's neighborhood, St. Michel, is a new one for me -- non-descript, no particular charm. TR himself is cute and almost as muscled as in his pictures, but he's at the far end of the spectrum from G – hardly communicates at all. Doesn’t nearly live up to his reviews – maybe he’s angry at working for only $100? Maybe he's had lots of takers at $100 and I'm his 10th client of the day? We’re done in half an hour – both of us – and lie around making desultory small talk for another 15 minutes or so.

 

Back to the Village. At Le Biloquet, a great new ice cream place across from Régis', I order a dish of vanilla, sit at an outside table, and watch the passing scene. Then Campus. I hang out with a couple of Americans, one from CT, one from Saratoga Springs. Dancers include Brandon (still sweet as can be and looking terrific – he won the Mr. W. Quebec competition and will compete on July 4 in the Mr. Quebec contest), Enzo, Sébastien, Francesco, Awaji, DJ, Nathan (Anglophone from Quebec City), Alexi, and – best of all – Carlos, whom I haven't seen since August (he spent the winter back in Mexico). He’s all over me at the bar and I’m instantly aroused. He's wonderful in the back, and I'm kicking myself at spending so much money on G and TR – I should have saved it for dances with Carlos.

 

Next door to La Piazzetta for dinner, then pursue a suggestion of M's and head to the Parc de Maisonneuve to see the festivities. There are enormous throngs making their way from Pie IX metro to the park. The crowd is very diverse, just like the city – blacks, women in head scarves, along with "typical" French Canadians. Most everyone is waving a Quebec flag. The main activity seems to be eating – food and beer concessions all over the park. There's a huge soundstage, carnival games, and a Ferris wheel. Security is tight, including an equestrian unit on magnificent black horses. I stick around for a while and then head back to Adonis.

 

Some old Adonis and Taboo dancers are there, including Dany, Nico, Tyler, Seven, Pierre-Luc, Max, Derek, Etienne, Sebastian (formerly of Campus). The cutest guy of all is the DJ. Some of the dancers are as inventive as the old Taboo dancers; others shuffle around like at Stock. There are too many songs without dancers, and the only dancer I find attractive is stuck to another client. I head back to Campus after an hour. Carlos is there still, really tired and eager to go home. We hang out together. He’s going to Toronto for pride and won’t be dancing any more this week.

 

Tommy comes by for another massage. I talk a bit with Nathan, who remarks, bitterly, “it’s almost July and look how few people are here.” Actually the crowd seems a reasonable size for a weekday night to me. I suggest that people may be more reluctant to pay for dances now that they cost $20. He replies that he’s willing to do $10 dances. I ignore the blatant hint. When Carlos leaves, so do I.

[zeferrelli]

great review - keep it up

[+ Lucky]

newatthis, I like the report from this point of view. Interesting to see your thoughts in reaction to what is happening, and glad that you are seeing the botanical gardens and the museum as well.

[+ newatthis]

Summer fun in Montreal - June 2009: III

 

Thursday. It’s cloudy and the humidity is up – just on the verge of being uncomfortable. Thunderstorms are forecast for the afternoon. I set up in the hotel lobby and do a little online stuff, awaiting T’s 11 am call. 11:15 comes and goes: nothing. I’ve spotted a free concert at noon to inaugurate the Baroque Festival, so I try calling him. Leave a message that I’ll assume things are off if I don’t hear anything by 11:45, and head to the outdoor concert. His return call comes in just as the concert begins. I hurriedly silence my phone and call back during a break. He's not going to dance today, so he’s amenable to meeting at 2:30 instead. As I head back to the hotel to prepare, I call M. He and his boyfriend will drop by Campus at 8 pm to find me; if I’m not going to be there, I’ll leave a message and we’ll meet at Metro Beaudry instead.

 

The date with T resembles a comedy routine. He calls at 2:25 – he's just jumping on the metro and will be there in 10 minutes. Twenty-five minutes later he calls again – he’s walking down the hallway to my room. I open the door to find him in a very skimpy muscle T carrying a skate board. The chambermaid passes and does a double take. Why is he late? He forgot his backpack, had to go back home, and decided to skateboard over. He was supposed to bring lube; now he realizes that he forgot. But there are lots of sex shops in the area; he'll run out and buy it now. He only has $5 with him, so I spot him $20. He leaves his skate board and backpack. Ten minutes pass. T calls again. He’s walking up and down Ste. Catherine and all he can find are "fucking Foot Lockers, no sex shops." I tell him to come back, I probably have enough lube to get us through.

 

He returns 15 minutes later, all sweaty. I put him in the shower. He pulls his Mac out of his backpack and asks if I want to watch some straight porn. I say no, and ask if he needs it (prepared to cancel if he says "yes"). No, he was just asking. He puts on some music instead. He's showing signs of G syndrome – talking too much (though at least not about women). I calm him down. We're beginning to get into some nice stuff when a new complication arises – he has a cut in his mouth. But he comes up with some creative work-arounds for that. We end up having a really good time, despite the weird beginning.

 

By now it's well past 5. I get dressed to go to Campus. On my way to the metro, M calls – he’s just gotten a last minute call to work in Lachine, an hour from his house, and will be there at least till 10, so dinner is off. He suggests breakfast in the morning, but I'm leaving too early. If they’re not too tired when he gets back, they’ll join me at the clubs.

 

Campus is more or less the same, no dancers I haven’t seen before. Waiter Kirv brings over Skyler, whom I've noticed several times this week. He’s from BC and doesn’t speak French. We chat for a while, but I’m not in the mood after T, so I warn him I won’t be doing dances. Nonetheless, when I see Tommy a bit later, I think about catching him for dances when I come back later to see Criss. Dinner outside at Donatella’s. The waiters are very cute, and one of them enjoys flirting – every time he stops to talk, his hand rests on mine, or on my shoulder, and he flashes a brilliant smile. Suddenly it turns very dark and the waiters scurry to lower the side curtains, just in time to save us from a 20-minute torrential thunderstorm.

 

I decide to check out the other clubs on this last night. First, Adonis. My luck has run out; Ray immediately flops down next to me. I'm ruthless with him and he leaves within a minute. The lineup is pretty much the same as last night, with one really cute new addition, Bryan. He seems stuck with other clients, however. I observe that the average dick size of these guys, including the most effeminate, is colossal, and they all are rock hard during their slow dances (certainly not the case at Campus any more).

 

I watch the show for about an hour and then head for Taboo. My expectations are so low that I'm pleasantly surprised. There are about 5 customers. The very cute bartender seems familiar; perhaps he's a former dancer. A quick glance around reveals 8-10 dancers, all reasonable looking. But my slutty week has left my libido substantially diminished and I don’t want to be the focus of all that dancer attention. I leave without sitting down.

 

By now it’s about 9:30 and time to say hello to Criss. The dancers hanging around outside Stock on my way back to Campus do nothing to make me want to stop there. At Campus, Tommy has departed, so no dances with him after all. In fact, most of the afternoon guys are gone. Criss, running the shooter bar, is as friendly as ever. As we talk, I feel a tap on my shoulder, and hear “don’t you remember me?” It's J, whom I fixed up with D for some dances last summer. He had given me his phone number so I could text him when I was coming back to town. But when I did that, he thought I was trying to set up a private and sent an angry reply. He evidently doesn't remember this, or doesn't realize it was me. He’s very affectionate and I take him to the back – lots of fun, if not quite up to the Carlos standard. Last time we met, he had been studying finance; he's now made a strategic retreat and will start fireman school in August. He’ll still be doing some dancing and asks me (again!) to text him before my next visit. I try to ascertain whether he does privates, but he’s very coy in his replies. Since nothing's going to happen this visit, I don't press the issue.

 

I go back to the shooter bar and hang out with Criss and the American from CT. J stops by from time to time for a little mutual caressing and a shooter or two. There's an older dancer named Chris who has a perverse sense of humor similar to mine; I'm not interested in dances with him, but he might be a fun dinner companion. No one else is ringing my bells here, so I go home to pack.

 

Friday. One hour from my hotel room, through check-in, security, and US customs, to the gate at YUL. That leaves plenty of time for coffee and the chocolate croissants I picked up yesterday. I make a good-bye call to D. The flight home (unlike the one out) is full. Now to deal with post-Montreal depression.

[zeferrelli]

again; a very good post. Do you not like Le Stock?

[Karl-G]

Montreal

 

It sounds like you had a very enjoyable trip. Thanks for the detailed report.

[+ newatthis]

again; a very good post. Do you not like Le Stock?

It's not that I don't like Stock. I just have never really felt comfortable there on my own, the way I do in the other clubs. I can and do admire the dancers' bodies from afar, so to speak, but have never really hit it off with any of them (with one exception, whom I actually met first at Taboo).

 

When I visit Stock with a peer, I always have a good time.

[+ Lucky]

"...who has a perverse sense of humor similar to mine."

 

[+ newatthis]

"...who has a perverse sense of humor similar to mine."

 

Hey, I do too have a sense of humor.

[MTLover]

A Stock visit is coming soon...

 

It's not that I don't like Stock. I just have never really felt comfortable there on my own, the way I do in the other clubs. I can and do admire the dancers' bodies from afar, so to speak, but have never really hit it off with any of them (with one exception, whom I actually met first at Taboo).

 

When I visit Stock with a peer, I always have a good time.

 

Yes, we do have a fine time at Stock, don't we?...especially by the time I force the 5th or 6th shot down you...by then I could tell you we were at Taboo and you'd believe me:)

 

Thanks for the terrific report...can't wait for August...

[Edward]

Hope to go to Montreal this summer. How do you bring up the subject with dancers as to going to a hotel and the services they will render and the price of service?

[LurkerSpeaks]

you chat them up for awhile, and/or do backroom dance, and then you just ask them if they do hotel privates... to which they either reply yes, no, or maybe..It all depends on the chemistry between the two of you, the time of the month, the financial situation at that exact moment, and thousands of other factors......More importantly is IF they say yes, again ask exactly what they will or will not do.. Just remember, these boys do not consider themselves escorts, and many, while might do the visit, are not what I would call "full service". There are many independant escorts as well as agencies that offer full service if you are so inclined. The downside is that you don't get to see the boy beforehand.

[+ newatthis]

I replied to your question in the "Ask an Escort" forum before I saw lurkers' response here. I agree with everything he writes.