Laurier Street

When I came to Montreal, I lived with the bitch at Laurier Street (a.k.a. Le Plateau Mont Royal). We lived many unforgettable and unforgiving things there. A love story that twisted in a violent and psycho relationshlaurier22ip. We lived on the 3rd floor. Where the summers what horrible hot and winters were unbearable.

She chose the 3rd because she didn’t want to hear the noise of the other over her head. It was very funny how the neighbours without choosing, they find each other. On the second floor there was a hetero couple with a little kid and a chinchilla. He was a kind of paramedic and her, I don’t know. They fight every single day. Sometimes they were verbally aggressive just like us.  The woman left months later. And the guy kept the little girl. After a couple of months he left the apartment. A new couple arrived. A French gay couple just arrived in Quebec. It was very impressive how they bought very expensive new things (kitchen, refrigerator and many others). They had parties very often and the cheated on each other. Bitch told me they fought in very French way. Slamming doors, shouting each other, making crisis and I guess, doing other nasty things. A very French couple. On the first floor there was an intercultural couple, a black guy with an Asiatic girl. After a year they left and a separated guy came, with a room for his kids. A big BBQ and he was never there.

Today, even if I’m sick, I went there after almost a year. I was scared to visit my old neighbourhood because of the memories. I feel bizarre, just walking down the street and seeing the changes in the buildings. I saw the old video rent, well, not so old, when we arrived they started the business months later. Now is a coffee video rent. The owner was a guy whose father is Spaniard but he doesn’t speak Spanish at all. And his business partner, a guy who wanted to be film director. In saw the Laurier Park and people ice skating. I saw the laundry on the corner; I used to go there when the washing machine suddenly died. The smell of those restaurants and coffee bars, boutiques and sushi shops. And of course, the disgusting French fast food. All together in the same street. People find it charming…for me it was just ordinary and by the way, snobbish and expensive.

When I was walking down the street I saw old gay couples (and lesbian too) who lived there. After the gay village, the Plateau is the place when a gay couple (with money and trying to have status) move there. The summer is a fashion gala, people showing their expensive clothes. But this time, I was a tourist. I didn’t feel sorry or nostalgia. The video rent misses me a lot, the interesting movies, documentaries and other eccentric things. I love movies.

It’s a good symptom I guess, to come back to see you past and don’t feel pain, or angry or I don’t know.

I’m healing, I got wounds, but I’m healing well.


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