Alien Sex Cult!

22 Feb

I have not been to Quebec City proper since I was four years old. In 1978 my family drove to Nova Scotia to visit the old country and we stopped off in Q.C. on the way down. I’m pretty sure this city has changed in the past 38 years but I wouldn’t know because I don’t remember any part of that long ago voyage. And, well, to be completely honest, I don’t remember anything about anything before grade five and that was almost seven years later. I’ve spoken about this with many doctors, therapists and cab drivers and they all tell me the same thing – early memory recall for most humans starts around the age of three.

What was happening to me in those missing eight years? Last week, in an attempt to find out, I started rewatching The X-Files (1993-2002). While I’ve just finished the first season, the only thing I’ve been able to figure out is that all these present-day anti-vaxers and 9/11 truthers and chemtrail conspiracy theorists, they’re all the godchildren of Patient Zero – Fox Mulder. I don’t think the show has aged very well because in every episode the protagonist comes across like a raving lunatic. Every time Mulder loses his pencil he claims the aliens did it. And the government’s ability to keep a secret (a secret that happens to be most important discovery in human history) from the general public, well, I don’t think they’re that competent.

Anyway, back to Quebec City. My earliest childhood memory I can recall is the time ninety-five percent of the grade five students at my elementary school got to go on a field trip to Quebec City and I was forced to stay behind while my friends and classmates had, what sounded like, the best time ever. There was this store that sold novelty items and everyone came back with switchblade combs and whoopee cushions and itching powder and I was defenceless against their pranks – left to survive on my wits alone. I lasted about four minutes.

IMG_6939

Sticks and stones may OWWWWW!!!! IT BURNS!!!!!

So yesterday after we checked in to the regular hotel (the ice hotel is tonight) we went and had dinner at this amazing little restaurant (I should say the Old Towne Quebec City is very pretty – see above photo). Then after supper we went to this little pub that came highly recommended by our server. When we got there it was empty save for two patrons and we decided to be cool and sit at the bar at the far end away from the other two customers (let’s call them Goofus and Gallant).

We ordered our beers and then two minutes after they arrived Goofus comes over and drunkenly starts to hit on us. It was a rather awkward situation and afterward Sarah informed me that this is just another day in the life of a woman – having to deal with drunk idiots. So this guy tells us he’s an off duty police officer and from what I could tell he’s also a member of that Raelian sex cult (described in Wikipedia as a “UFO religion”). I thought this because he kept asking us about sex (that’s the Raelian part) and he wouldn’t leave us alone (the cult part).

The other guy (Gallant) was from Burkina Faso and he was also drunk and also looking to score. After telling us he’s a millionaire who drives a Porsche, he brought over two shots (whiskey I think) one for him and one for Sarah (which I took and didn’t drink). I didn’t see the bartender pour them and I wasn’t about to down a roofie colada so we gave them to Goofus after Gallant went home. He drank both of them without hesitation and we left soon thereafter (with the bartender quietly offering an apology).

This was such an eyeopener: experiencing first hand (and being on the receiving end of) what I can only assume is an incredibly commonplace situation for most women – harassment by random strangers and having to fear for their physical safety. I had visions of Goofus getting upset and there being a non-verbal altercation where at the end of the evening I would have to explain to a bunch of cops how my face managed to injure one of their co-worker’s fists.

But none of that came to pass. We found another bar, had a couple more drinks, and then went back to the hotel. At this time there’s still no word if Goofus made it home to his wife and children.

 

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