Before I tell you about the amazingness of Montreal and how I want to live here forever and ever (or at least a few months) and yes I am aware how often I say this…I have to share a story with you.
A few years ago when I first moved to St. Johnâ€™s, I had this problem where after a few drinks, I started sleepwalking. Iâ€™d wake up in an entirely different place than where I fell asleep, wrapped in one of my roommateâ€™s blankets, with no recollection of how I got there. This happened a few times, and then I assumed it stopped.
But Saturday night, I went out on the town with Cailin and her friend Kendra. We had a ridiculously fun time bar hopping on Crescent Street and St. Laurent, and then Cailin and I headed back to our hotel.
Fast forward a few hours where Iâ€™m suddenly snapped awake standing outside my hotel room in my itty-bitty pajamas. The door is locked. Cailin is passed out hardcore, and I have no idea how to get back in.
Iâ€™m panicking, no idea what to do. Weâ€™re staying at the freaking Omni, where guests do not exactly laugh about this kind of behaviour. I debate taking the elevator to the lobby, and then opt for the stairs because I figure there is less chance of me running into someone. Except we’re on the 19th floor, and about one floor down, I give up.
At that point I was tempted to sit outside the room and wait for daylight. And then I spotted the phone in the lobby, called the front desk, and someone came to let me in. I fumbled through some half-assed explanation about why I was standing in the hallway practically naked, but dude didnâ€™t say a word. Ah, câ€™est la vie.
New traveller threat, perhaps? Hotel sleepwalking? Oy.