I'd planned a quiet evening in. I took a long bath, read some more of my book, thought about how beautiful the mountains had looked in the fading light of the afternoon (kind of pink, if anyone's interested) and then slid deeper into the water and let the bubbles close over my head.
My reverie was interupted by a noise from the laptop. Since I'm a slave to all things electronic, I padded over and peered at it. A friend was reminding me that tonight was an important hockey game for Canada and why wasn't I watching it?
I've developed a liking for hockey and decided that rather than sit in front of the TV with a glass of water and a box of cookies for company, I really should watch it in a bar.
This, my friends, was a mistake.
The Amsterdam Cafe is practically opposite my hotel, so I acquired a seat at the bar, ordered a beer (my New Years resolutions don't take effect until I leave Canada...) and watched Canada demolish their unfortunate Russian opponents. I imagine the poor kids from Moscow will be spending some quality time in Siberia after that performance.
My new friend, Sean (pronouced Shahn) next to whom I was sitting (I've got very good at talking to strangers in bars) tried to explain the significance of 'Sutter-Style Hockey'. I was more fascinated by the theatrical headsets the commentators were wearing - this is the 21st century, guys. No need for something that looks like it came from the prop basket of a 50s movie.
The game ended with the result that had been inevitable from the start of the second period. The bar was pretty apathetic about it. I watched some commercials on the big screen (the one for something called "hamburger helper" which basically involved a woman feeding her family something hideous from a packet and then declaring it "home-cooked goodness" tickled me. Lady - heating pre-prepared food from a packet in a microwave doesn't count as home-cooked...)
Sean left and was replaced by Robert. Robert is a snowboarder and was in Whistler to take avalanche training (I never did work out if that meant cause or avoidance) and decided that tonight I'd be his drinking buddy. I'm easily lead and went along with it.
This was the second mistake.
As the Amsterdam began to empty, Robert and I headed out to find somewhere a bit busier. We stopped in a few bars, watched a band play in the mock-Irish pub at the bottom of the gondola and eventually found our way back to the Amsterdam. By this time, Robert had decided that we were both going to get "laid" tonight. After the tequila, I could barely stand up, so laying down seemed an excellent idea. I have a feeling that that wasn't what he meant.
No, his plan was to head into the Down Under club and introduce us to any unfortunate woman that was standing by herself for more than 30 seconds. Sometimes more than once. Remembering New Years Eve, I'd switched to soft drinks (much to the disgust of the waitress who was, it must be said, stunning) and was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Robert (who I was interested to note suffers from a stammer like me) dispensed advice with the confidence that only Jack Daniels can give. While gesturing vaguely in the direction of some ladies for whom we'd bought drinks. I nodded, and admired the waitress.
At midnight we staggered back into the night air. Robert had nowhere to stay tonight, and dropped some not-so-subtle hints. I was sober enough to know that I did not want him in my hotel room and so guided him back to his huge off-road vehicle (which, I have to say, looked a great deal more comfortable than my room) and left him to sleep it off.
My alarm awoke me this morning from a dream where I, the hamburger-helper lady and a basketball player were planning a mission to Mars to save humanity and I lay still for a while, trying to work out if I'd had fun last night or not. I'll get back to you on that one.
For now, I have a final day of skiing and tomorrow I return to Vancouver. Tonight needs to be... quiet.
