Vancouver Santa Rampage
I can't say whether we had more wit among us now than usual, but I am certain we had more laughing, which answered the end as well.
-- Oliver Goldsmith
Saturday, December 16, 2000
One year ago: T1 Line
Three years ago: Making a Hit
There was snow, then rain during the night. It didn't look bad when we woke up, but I decided to let Jack drive.
We stopped at the grocery store, so a costco run was not needed. Haggen had bulk candy, and lots of it! Plus Jack got coffee, and managed to deposit a check that needed taking care of. We were on the road by ten.
North of town, the road had some slush and packed ice. Jack still wanted to drive faster than other cars, and to pass them. When switching back to the other lane, we started to skid, then spun out on to the shoulder! We went around three times, I think. I covered my face and prayed that we wouldn't hit any one else. I think I wasn't screaming, but I was very frightened. We came to a stop without hitting any trees or guardrails, and there weren't any deep ditches.
The panel truck that we'd been passing pulled up, and the old man driving walked over to see if we were ok, which I think was nice of him. No one was hurt, and we didn't need to change our underwear, suprisingly. Jack turned on four-wheel drive and got us back on the road. He was exhilarated by the incident -- I wasn't angry, but did request that from now on we stay in the lane where the traffic was, and not pass anyone no matter how slow they were going.
* * * * * * * *
We drove through lots of rain, with wind and bad visibility. It didn't look good for rampaging around town. I'd printed out a map of downtown. There are no highways in the city, for some inscrutable Canadian reason.
Granville is the main drag. We found our hotel, the hotel Dakota. We were early, so we agreed to switch to a smaller, one-bed room so we could check in without waiting. We took our things up, then walked around the neighborhood a bit. We bought umbrellas (mine a pretty red with white flowers to go with santa gear), changed money, visited pawnshops, and ate brunch at the Templeton diner. Jack has a fatal attraction for guitars and other musical instruments in pawnshop windows, but usually restrains himself from buying such items.
On our way back to the hotel, we saw other santas across the street in a cafe/bar, so we hurried to change into our santa gear. Our room was hot! I cracked the window. Jack had a santa jacket and cap; I had a green top, and a red skirt, with purple long underwear under both, plus my red jacket and mobcap. We both had two strings of lights, red and white, around our necks. I had santa on a stick, Jack had a ribbon with random odd christmas ornaments around his neck. To all this was added two of those family radios.
We found the santas and started chatting. Some I knew, some were new to me. Wally was seated at the bar, recovering from the night before and eating breakfast. Jack and he talked politics. The group started debating: is it time to go to the skytrain? where is it, anyway? We'd asked the desk clerk at the Dakota, before leaving. "Under the Hudson Bay Company, four blocks or so." Santas started dribbling down the street. When we found the HBC, but didn't find the skytrain station (it's on the other side of the building) Jack started getting irritable. That out-of-control feeling, I think, of not being sure where to go, really stresses him out.
Finally we found the station (the underground mall is quite mazelike) and boarded the train. Tickets seem to be on the honor system, since they have ticket machines but no one looked at my ticket after I bought one.
The other santas were with us by the time the train pulled in. Good thing, since we weren't clear about what to do after we got off at the Broadway station. There was lots of slush on the ground.
* * * * * * * *
The formal first event for Saturday (other santas had rampaged Friday night, also) was at the Silvertone tavern. They held up well under the mass santa invasion. lots of meeting and greeting. Ashleigh was there, an old Cacophony friend. Jules, whom I'd met last year, and Jane who says she reads this journal. Ivan from Seattle, and other santas that I never do catch the names of, real names or santa names. Next time I'm wearing a nametag (though folks seem to remember my name) and asking folks consistently what they are called. There were about sixty santas in attendance. The waitress wandered with plates of food: "Which santa ordered the onion rings?"
Wally posed next to the hot nuts machine, for a gag picture. Spanking seems to be a feature of this weekend! One santa got about ten strokes of the crop, and a few hits from a big red paddle, all with pants down.
Jack smoked a cigar out on the front steps, and asked all passersby if they'd been naughty or nice. He would then give them candy.
* * * * * * * *
After a few hours, it was time to hit the train again. But some santas were diverted by driving their cars downtown, instead of staying with the group and riding the train. we changed cars at one stop, giving us new people to torment entertain. I really like getting up close, and speaking softly, asking naughty or nice, and forcing them to say they are naughty. "Say it loud!" "NAUGHTY!" Yes! and I give them candy.
When we were off the train, we found ourselves in the depths of a huge retail complex that connects several city blocks. My favorite scene here was us riding an escalator up, then looping around and riding down, over and over. Security was looking a bit worried, though. The cry rang out: "Santa needs a drink! Santa needs a drink!" Luckily, there was a liquor store right there in the mall -- with free samples. This would be unheard of most places in the States, I think. Jack bought a pint bottle of Snake Bite, a flavoured bourbon shooter. A pre-bottled shooter seems like a contradiction in terms, doesn't it? And Google has a bunch of recipes, all different.
We dumped out on the street, and wandered for a bit. Somehow we ended up at the Commodore Lanes, a bowling alley in the basement of some building right there in downtown. It's been there since the twenties, judging by the pictures of the opening day handing in the stairwell.
This was one of my favorite spots -- people were doing things, it wasn't smokey, and I got to play pinball. They held up well under the sudden invasion. The bowling wasn't the regular ten-pin; I think it was five pin, with three (small) balls per frame.
* * * * * * * *
We went back to the retail district after this, stopping for a photo op on a big set of stairs near the ice rink. Then, of course, we charged down the stairs and on to the rink. This was apparently just fine -- no skates were required on this rink. It was a fine surreal site to see the santas sailing, slipping and sliding along (but I stayed behind the railing). Jack confessed that he almost fell on his butt a few times, but successfully avoided actually hitting the ice.
 For some reason, many of the folks we met wanted to get their pictures taken with Jack, especially the young Japanese girls. Was it his sparkling eyes? his burly figure? The badger-sporran hidden under the curly white beard attached to his belt? We couldn't figure it out.
We invaded the MAC store: "Santa needs Makeup!" We asked them to do us all up some rosy cheeks, and they complied. Then we moved on -- Santa is like a shark, and needs to keep moving. That was one of our best retail stops. I think the clerk who had a fake tattoo/decal applied to his lower back was the most pleased, yet freaked out. The freaking was probably because it was a female santa who was licking the decal to get it moist enough.
* * * * * * * *
Finally we arrived at Blunt Brothers. This is an herb friendly cafe, but more important to me, they served food! There wasn't much left by this point of the day, but they did have Jamaican patties. I asked what was actually in a Jamaican patty, and the overwhelmed server said "some are chicken, or beef, or veggie." But they were all there on one platter (which would be a problem for a vegetarian, I think) so I just said, "give me four, please." Jack had two and I had two. They were very tasty little turnovers, not too spicy.
People were starting to slow down now. We started walking to a lot of different bars and taverns. I can't keep them all straight, and I wasn't drinking! Jack bought pitchers of beer at several establishments, and poured beers for other santas. At the Cambie, I shared a snack with an older, larger santa (Santas should have worn nametags!) and Santa Jane. She shared some interesting info about Wally Glenn.
We did some dancing during the evening, starting at 50 Bourbon Street, then lots of dancing at Club 23. This was a small disco, with sheets hung from the ceiling at odd angles. I was worried about Jack getting dehydrated, so forced him to drink a pint of water. He was very affectionate and slightly tipsy. We hung out on the back balcony, which overlooked the courtyard and alley, chatting with Wally and the other santas. It was cooler out there! Inside, Santas were getting partially disrobed and massaging each other.
I'd had about enough by this time, and was lobbying Jack for returning to the hotel. On the sidewalk outside the club, a guy told us we should go into the bar next door. "No cover!" he exclaimed. Jack was up for one more drink, so we went in. What an odd old place! The Pig and Whistle was family owned, our self-appointed guide said. We walked through several rooms strung together, and found two musicians and the bartender/owner in a room at the back. The bass player and keyboards/singer whaled on hits from the past. The owner was British, and chatted with Jack for a few minutes. The decor looked like rec room from the sixties, with folding chairs, plastic lawn chairs, and some normal restaurant chairs. Jack and I, and the guy who had inveigled us into the place, were the only customers!
Jack drank up quickly, and we left after asking the owner how to get back to Granville street. We did start out trying to walk back to the hotel, but it was too far, and Jack's feet were hurting. The hiking boots he was wearing weren't suited for the dancing he'd been doing. Jack was hungry, too! So we stopped off in the food stand where I'd bought Jack a slice of pizza earlier. Vancouver is very well supplied with pizza slices; there are about three places that sell it every block! Inexpensive, and the pizza wasn't bad at all. We walked a few more blocks, and succeeded in flagging down a taxi. We were driven back to the hotel in short order. We were really, truly beat!
* * * * * * * *
The Rampage was a great day! We did seem to lose focus in the evening, and had to do a bit too much walking from place to place. But I loved the experience, and I think Jack did too. I really liked his style of talking to the people we met.
|
