I Confess: Le Confessionnal Adds New Meaning to Hump Day
How a MTL hot spot helps make Wednesday nights the best part of the week.
A while back, I made a bold declaration: That the weekdays have replaced the weekend for those of us who are older and wiser, but still want to party 1999 style.
And while the options for post-midnight revelry dwindles considerably during the week, you can be sure that every major city has that one special place where people (specifically, those who have the stamina—or appropriate work schedule) can converge for guilty-free, liquor-infused fun.
In Montreal, that place is Le Confessionnal, a bar that leaves you wondering: “Doesn’t anyone work in the morning?”
Now a permanent fixture in the city’s social scene, Le Confessionnal (located at 431 McGill in Old Montreal) is the epicenter for 30-something carousing. The drinks are top-notch (and served by uber-friendly staff), the beats are hot and the crowd…well…they’re in my demographic (thank you, Wednesdays!).
By the time the house lights came on, the last track had played, and my last vodka-water was polished off, I had had three important epiphanies (none of which, FYI, had to do with the fact that getting home on a Thursday morning at the break of dawn seemed so wrong, yet felt so right):
Suits Just Wanna Have Fun
So this is where all of the corporate folks come for a little workweek action. Proving that there is life after the standard cocktails and dinner with the colleagues, Wednesday nights are crawling with businessmen looking to mingle with the underground hipsters and 25-to-35 socialites after midnight (once the married and/or boring co-workers have headed back home).
Saturdays are for slamming
The other GREAT thing about the Wednesday night outing is the possibility of meeting someone who A) is within five years of your age bracket and B) you can spend all of Saturday night in bed with so you don’t have to waste it chatting it up with college students at some overcrowded dump.
The cherry on top? There’s a very good chance that if you’re both lining up shots in the wee hours of a school night, she’s ain’t looking to settle down either (here’s hoping).
I Wish I Was a Bartender
Ah, to be a bartender—even for just one day. Getting to Confessionnal early actually allowed me to chat it up with the staff without having to shout and, judging from all of their great anecdotes (and the girl next to me doing a body shot), working the bar is perhaps the greatest workweek job around–unless you’re blogging about sex of course.
Which got me thinking: I wouldn’t mind flexing my mixology muscles. Not sure what would come of it, but it’d sure make one hell of an article!
Remember party people: You work hard for your money, so spend it wisely; cancel your weekend plans and give yourselves a great reason to get out of bed come Wednesday. Oh, and you’re welcome!
The Truth About Tryst