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jamesqI'm writing in the coffee shop again and an attractive couple spontaneously broke out into a well choreographed dance number! I love this town!
Yesterday was the work portion of my trip as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bognaustroglum, whiggy_one and I went to the House of McLaren in Vancouver to see about renting proper jackets to go with our kilts in anticipation of spookiemonkie2 and kermie_canada's upcoming wedding.
I've been to a few Scottish shops in the last few years, and the one universal constant has been service bordering on the rude. This is odd because I've met a few Scots in my life and they generally seem to be fun, friendly folk. Maybe the difference is that the ones I meet that are friendly are on vacation and the ones I run into in Scottish stores are bitter old women who are stuck whoring out there culture to Canadians who can't tell the difference between Scots, English, Welsh and Irish (and also don't care to).
Or maybe I've just been unlucky.
Anyway, we went into House of McLaren and asked about jackets. Turns out they had just one kind for rental and it was very formal. Double breasted with tails. Just the thing for kilts that weren't the casual ones we'd be wearing. There was a less formal jacket option we could use, but the shop was in Coquitlam, which is in Vancouver the same way Didsbury is in Calgary. We gave them a call and the earliest we could get a fitting was July 7th, long after I'd be out of town. We could simply call in the measurements though and get our jackets reserved. To do that though, we'd have to get a tailor to measure us.
So we went to the local mall to look for a tailor. We found one, but he was this eastern European guy who was like a stereotype of the Immigrant-New-Yorker. He took our measurements and we had some challenges with translation, but I think we did OK.
A woman walked up to the tailor while we were there and interupted us to let us know that a bird had crapped on her jacket and what were we going to do about it. She had that weird nasal accent of an old Brooklyn woman, so for a moment I thought we had been transported into a Seinfeld episode. She was quite the rude old biddy and at first she directed it towards me. I guess this was because I was behind the counter and writing down numbers that the tailor was telling me. I set her straight (as to my non-employment in the garment industry) and she toned down her behavior just prior to me telling me off.
I sent the measurements off tospookiemonkey2 and that left me and the lads with some spare time. Hopefully we get the jackets OK, or there will be some last-minute scrambling.
We three then went our separate ways. Them to their own dark purposes, me to Calhoun's to do some writing. That this post is so late will tell you how successful I was.
I got to Calhoun's, bought a snack and a drink, sat down at a table and assembled my laptop. Thensomejauntypolka walked in. This was totally unexpected as we had not agreed to meet. It was a pleasant surprise however.
We chatted for awhile and had a generally good time. Eventually she too had to go and pursue her own dark agenda. Lacking anything to do for a few hours, and having a sore ass from the wooden chairs that Calhoun's sports, I opted to go to the theatre and see Cars.
I rushed off to Tinseltown and missed the show by a mere six minutes. Drat. So I rushed off across downtown to the Paramount and managed to miss the Da Vinci Code by a mere 15 minutes. Double drat. So I went back to twentieth and read some comic books while everyone slowly assembled.
Then it was off to Ma's Clubhouse. This accomplished three things: First, it's one of my favorite Vancouver restaurants. Second, I took the opportunity to do some drinking (and got pleasantly tipsy!). Third, we had a good look at their party room (which we had never been in before) and judged it sufficient to our needs for a Jack-n-Jill party. So next month whenhadriel and I go to Vancouver, we will be having spookiemonkie2 and kermie_canada, and everyone we can think of whom they like in Vancouver over for some raw fish and alcohol.
Yesterday was the work portion of my trip as
bognaustroglum, whiggy_one and I went to the House of McLaren in Vancouver to see about renting proper jackets to go with our kilts in anticipation of spookiemonkie2 and kermie_canada's upcoming wedding.I've been to a few Scottish shops in the last few years, and the one universal constant has been service bordering on the rude. This is odd because I've met a few Scots in my life and they generally seem to be fun, friendly folk. Maybe the difference is that the ones I meet that are friendly are on vacation and the ones I run into in Scottish stores are bitter old women who are stuck whoring out there culture to Canadians who can't tell the difference between Scots, English, Welsh and Irish (and also don't care to).
Or maybe I've just been unlucky.
Anyway, we went into House of McLaren and asked about jackets. Turns out they had just one kind for rental and it was very formal. Double breasted with tails. Just the thing for kilts that weren't the casual ones we'd be wearing. There was a less formal jacket option we could use, but the shop was in Coquitlam, which is in Vancouver the same way Didsbury is in Calgary. We gave them a call and the earliest we could get a fitting was July 7th, long after I'd be out of town. We could simply call in the measurements though and get our jackets reserved. To do that though, we'd have to get a tailor to measure us.
So we went to the local mall to look for a tailor. We found one, but he was this eastern European guy who was like a stereotype of the Immigrant-New-Yorker. He took our measurements and we had some challenges with translation, but I think we did OK.
A woman walked up to the tailor while we were there and interupted us to let us know that a bird had crapped on her jacket and what were we going to do about it. She had that weird nasal accent of an old Brooklyn woman, so for a moment I thought we had been transported into a Seinfeld episode. She was quite the rude old biddy and at first she directed it towards me. I guess this was because I was behind the counter and writing down numbers that the tailor was telling me. I set her straight (as to my non-employment in the garment industry) and she toned down her behavior just prior to me telling me off.
I sent the measurements off to
spookiemonkey2 and that left me and the lads with some spare time. Hopefully we get the jackets OK, or there will be some last-minute scrambling.We three then went our separate ways. Them to their own dark purposes, me to Calhoun's to do some writing. That this post is so late will tell you how successful I was.
I got to Calhoun's, bought a snack and a drink, sat down at a table and assembled my laptop. Then
somejauntypolka walked in. This was totally unexpected as we had not agreed to meet. It was a pleasant surprise however.We chatted for awhile and had a generally good time. Eventually she too had to go and pursue her own dark agenda. Lacking anything to do for a few hours, and having a sore ass from the wooden chairs that Calhoun's sports, I opted to go to the theatre and see Cars.
I rushed off to Tinseltown and missed the show by a mere six minutes. Drat. So I rushed off across downtown to the Paramount and managed to miss the Da Vinci Code by a mere 15 minutes. Double drat. So I went back to twentieth and read some comic books while everyone slowly assembled.
Then it was off to Ma's Clubhouse. This accomplished three things: First, it's one of my favorite Vancouver restaurants. Second, I took the opportunity to do some drinking (and got pleasantly tipsy!). Third, we had a good look at their party room (which we had never been in before) and judged it sufficient to our needs for a Jack-n-Jill party. So next month when
hadriel and I go to Vancouver, we will be having spookiemonkie2 and kermie_canada, and everyone we can think of whom they like in Vancouver over for some raw fish and alcohol.
