This week we had some friends in town from Calgary, they were here for the annual dental convention that happens every spring, and they were ready to party. No stranger to the convention ourselves, we have attended for the last four years with our friends, albeit more as party crashers than anything else. The only thing that I knew about teeth was that I broke mine in a fight with the dance floor during one of my finer moments at Cabo Wabo. What I did know for sure is that it would be a ridiculous amount of fun and make for a great story. I was not wrong.
We met up with our friend and for privacy’s sake we’ll call him Dr. Dance, at the Fairmont Pacific Rim lounge. If you are looking for perhaps the busiest place in Vancouver after 4pm, this might be it. It might have been to due to the fact that almost every convention in the western hemisphere was being held in Vancouver this particular weekend, but damn the place was hopping.
If I were going to make a pie chart of how this evening was going to play out, I would say that my night would be 90% focused on hanging out with dear Dr. Dance because I only get to see him once and year, and the other 10% to be used for scouting the talent. We were only at the PR lounge for a quick drink, and when I say quick I mean that I had to chug the last little bit of my wine, though I’m not going to lie this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that and it certainly won’t be the last. However I will definitely be back to give the lounge another go, hotel lounges are always a melting pot of business men and out of towners, plus as an added bonus there was an amazing acoustic musician providing the soundtrack to people’s future hook ups, and I am sold on anything acoustic.
Which then leads us to the time of the night where we get our party crashing panties on. We depart for Dr. Dance’s annual University of Saskatchewan alumni party, an event we’ve now crashed for the past three years and I’m pretty sure for all of those three years we have repeatedly gotten the same foul looks from people year after year for crashing their “prestigious” event. Not one to let a foul look stop me from drinking free vodka, I have always fully supported the crashing of this party. Upon our arrival it seemed that Dr. Dance hardly knew any of the people there, so who’s to say they didn’t know that I’m not a dentist. I could own U Smile, I Smile Dentistry, and could also very well be Dr. Bieber. How would they ever know? The only disappointment here was that we didn’t sign the guest book...Dr. Bieber shall be back next year alumni committee!
The party was in full swing when we got there and thanks to Paul the bartender’s honesty and heavy handed pours, we were most definitely the funnest people in attendance. Score one for the class of 98 (our obvious year of graduation from dental school)! One thing that’s a guarantee with this event is that most of the men are married and the ones that aren’t are like 12 years old, as they are the most recent graduates.
As previously mentioned, the only reason for going to this party is for the free booze and to apparently make it appear to other party goers that Dr. Dance has a harem. I had the joy of overhearing a gentleman asking him how he always has so many beautiful women surrounding him every year at this event. Score two for the class of 98! We were on a roll.
We soon found out that Dr. Dance’s other friends ditched him to go to another party, which was pretty rude if you ask me, here I had thought we were all in this together. It seemed the only way to pay them back was to crash that party too. Yes we did.
The next part of the evening took us down to the Lamplighter. Always a big hit for hockey games and frat boys, though only one of these two things could be found here this evening. I suppose the frat boys took the night off. Or maybe there wasn’t any room for them due to the hostile dental takeover. Side note – since when does it cost $6 or any amount of dollars to go to a pub on a Thursday night? Damn you Donnelly Group, why do you have to own almost every bar in Vancouver, therefore making me give you all my money almost everywhere I go?! And willingly give it to you as well, because dammit, your pubs are good. Unfair.
This is where the night starts to take a real turn for the worse, as we have only consumed vodka for dinner up to this point, with a tiny splash of cranberry juice. Just a splash! How many times did Paul the bartender have to hear that in the hour that we were at the other party... I wonder....
Anywho, the Lamplighter is pretty foggy to me, but I do know there was extensive discussion on the sexiness of Dr. Dance’s room at the PRim. We made a brief stop in there and my gawd those rooms are fiiiine. Slip on some smooth jazz, take a bath in the ginormous tub and most likely get your groove on because that’s what those rooms were made for. However much of our discussion was aimed at the fact that Dr. Dance was sharing this sexified room with a fellow dental friend of his. Many distasteful jokes were made, but were in all in good fun I would say. Some others would not say this, but then again if you don’t like the joke – go home!
So the question is, where does one go after drinking almost a forty of vodka? The answer? The Roxy. Never a let down, the Roxy was legendary amongst the dentists. They have proclaimed it the best bar in the world after all. And I’m not I disagree with them. Of what feels like about a million times being there, I can’t say I’ve ever had a bad time. This time around wasn’t any different.
We danced for our lives that night and probably should have been dancing away from the creepy dudes that were surrounding us left ,right and center. I don’t know if there was a full moon out, but it sure seemed like it. The freaks come out at night? Yes, yes they do. More vodka drinks seemed to surround us too, it was almost like they were multiplying gremlin style. One of the creeps bought us all drinks, and even Dr. Dance had to declare “these drinks are for sure roofied”. So you can tell where this is going on the men front, and yes perhaps the Roxy isn’t the place to pick up men....or is it?
Looks to me like it was, as my fellow man hunter scored her first number of the mission. Obviously we will go out for drinks to celebrate.... Haha. He was tall, blonde, had a Bieberish hair do and quite possibly could have been 22, but age aside went balls out by grabbing her hand and wisking her off to the dance floor. No introductions, no questioned asked, just the language of dance. Since he was so forward, we all assumed that she new young Bieber, but as luck would have it she did not. As it turns out the Biebs isn’t 22, but he IS definitely from Langley. Stay tuned on how that pans out, we hope to hear more on that after a date is setup.
As for me, not wanting to let the Roxy down on its Charlie Sheen #winning streak of picking up dudes, I would soon find out that dentists do indeed do it better. Now I’m not one to kiss and tell, but I will tell you this. There was a hotel room, a cameo from the dentist’s roommate and of course, a cab ride of shame at 3 in the morning to the other hotel where my friends were staying.
To sum my thoughts on this evening, here is a demure text conversation between me and a friend of mine in Toronto the day after:
Me: I wonder how many different hotel rooms you and I have seen collectively.
Her: Haha. Too many
Lovely.
It was quiet a night. Many thanks to the dentists for another rockin’ year at the convention, to my friends for having that other room downtown, ghosts notwithstanding, and of course to the Roxy for keeping it real year after year.
For my recommendations, I do not recommend drinking almost a forty of vodka to yourself, but I do recommend adding a splash of cranberry when you can.
Props also to the Hotel Vancouver concierge for saving everyone’s lives the next morning and having that emergency pizza number on hand. I’m pretty sure it’s called Johnny’s and I’m pretty sure it was delicious.
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