by Yannick Bruderlein
AN EMBARRASSING MOMEMT
MY NAME IS YANNICK BRUDERLEIN. I HAVE NOT BEEN TO THE BARBER SHOP FOR AT LEAST 6 MONTHS, THUS MY HAIR HAS GROWN LONG. I LIKE IT LIKE THAT.
HERE IS A STORY In WHICH I PLAY THE ROLE AS MAIN CHARACTER.
This summer, me myself and I learnt that doing an all-night trip going from New York central station to Montreal isn’t the best idea when you’re wearing a t-shirt and a pair of thin cotton Nike shorts because of the Martian like temperature going below zero for no apparent reason. I luckily had a beach towel to cover over myself.
Suddenly the rumblings of the Greyhound bus woke me up to the far sight of the twinkling lights of the still asleep city of Montréal
Arrived in Montréal at 4:21am, In a second I was outside the bus on the sidewalk, but first I had to congratulate the driver for his special skill of not falling asleep while driving.
Since it was 4:55 the metros/subways where still closed and I needed to find a way to go about getting myself to my brother’s apartment, without waking up the hole city
Since the taxi was the only option in those days, I took one. One black van with a bright yellow electric sign saying taxi.
I got in told him the addressee and he started to drive. At around mid-way him and I were already in a deep conversation about the many cultures surrounding Montreal, and how it could well infact do a positive impact on the local economy. I discreetly announced that I was learning Russian, he asked with great enthusiasm “oh why?”. I responded by saying that I liked the culture and it could be perhaps beneficial for my not so distant future. With a smile, I also announced that I also liked Russian women. Now, let’s please keep in note that this was around 5 am.
He abruptly stopped at the red light, turned the drivers light, tuned around looked at me interested but concerned way, and said, “you like women?!”. At first I grind at him in confusion and said “uh yeah... I mean, I think so”. In a lite aggressive tone, he burst out and said, “but you are a young woman!”. This followed by me explaining that I was a long-haired teen boy with no visible beard yet. It all ended well with laughs and I arrived safely at my brother’s house.
Since my brother and his wife were both peacefully sound asleep, in order for me not to spend the short night outside, I had to knock quite hard on their door, which awakened most of Montréal before there alarm.
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