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| - Hahahahahahaha. The Drake is pretty hilarious. Pretentious, takes itself so seriously type of hilarious hilarious.
My boyfriend hates the Drake; Here's a true story - He lived on Queen Street west in what he calls it's "Glory Era" before all the treeeendy restaurants, boutique hotels and dumb ass condos started moving in. You know that glorious time when hookers would just chill in front of stores at around 2 am, the CAMH patients would wander the streets and scare people, that time when the Drake was a dangerous biker bar? My boyfriend got such a kick outta living there within that sort of ~colorful city landscape~ and he confirms that it all went to shit when the Drake came along. And it's true, the Queen West area was an artist haven with cheap rent for studios, The construction of the Bohemian Lofts pushed out an old factory that housed a ton of artists in converted loft. I digress, but gentrification sucks hard balls.
The Drake ruined everything, according to my lover. So he invested in a t-shirt that said "Fuck the Drake" and felt that was enough to ~Fight the Power~. So as a goof one night, he ended up at the Drake years later, wearing that same shirt in winter (he got in because he had a coat over it). So multiple drinks later, he wanders back out front for a smoke, sans coat, the security guard sees the shirt and legitimately says to my boyfriend "sorry buddy, I can't let you back in with that shirt."
AHAHAHAHAH. Fuck you guy. And Fuck the Drake.
HOWEVER, I was desperate to close out 2013 in the classiest fashion possible and I had heard the Drake hosted one of the best New Years Eve parties in the city. So here I was, considering shelling out 150 bucks per person for a private booth all night, a 4 course luxurious meal, and a complimentary glass of bubbly. Obviously the boyfriend was SO AGAINST IT, that I had to bribe him with a lot of bourbon, and pay for his ticket. SO we dressed up all Baller and ended up going. And basically I learned that night that money DOES buy happiness. everything was overpriced, but fucking delicious. Like fuck, all the food was so fucking rich, filling and glorious, that I had to force feed myself the Lobster main course because I was like "I basically paid 50 dollars for this delicious plate of fucking heart attack/clogged arteries." The service was beyond excellent and the wait staff was generally super cool. We left a big tip because fuck it HAPPYY NEWWW YEARRRRRR. Surprisingly, it was a really interesting mix of people there that night, annoying 905'ers with hyena laughs, some guy who looked like a broke down Bryan Ferry in a Union Jack jacket who kept leering at the young sexy girlz, and then annoying college kids wandered in to take up space on the dance floor.
So yea, for their NYE event, The Drake hella turns it out. The music they played that night was pretty cool too, a few 90s Euro tracks, but after midnight, the DJ started trolling and kept playing Drake (Jimmy from Degrassi Drake...) every 5 songs. It was fucking stupid. Basically, I feel really conflicted about anything that involves the word "Drake".
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