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| - Hey, not bad!
It cost the three of us about $130 for a double when all was said and done. We only needed the absolute basics. That is to say, a soft place to lay down on in moderate privacy. The location was solely based on how close the hotel was to our open bar party.
We were ready. We each had a card that read, "Hello, I am drunk. Please take me to 4545 Boulevard de la Cote-Vertu, room xxx." You know, just in case. The cab ride to the hotel was short and eventful, and I am proud to say that we didn't have to use those cards. There were two beds and three of us. We had anticipated some kind of drunken contest to see who would have to share a bed, but luckily, one of us had the misfortune to pass out in the bathroom. When said person woke up, he chose the other bed. I won the russian roulette of heterosexual bed-sharing that night.
In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. I'd only slept 5 hours, though. The drapes did a bad job of keeping the daylight where it belonged - outside. The view out the window was of some warehouse or factory or something; it was terrible. But most people don't go to airport hotels for the view or to wake up late. I made some coffee and became nauseous when I tried to drink it. Through no fault of theirs, might I add. The nausea was completely my fault. I tried the TV. It worked. I turned it off because it hurt my head. I opened the fridge. It worked too. There was some left-over pizza in there from last night's party, and the stench made me nauseous again. I closed the fridge.
The staff were nice. We checked out on time somehow.
To be honest, I will never come back here. But only because I'll never make enough money to justify staying in a hotel overnight while on a layover - let alone one in Montreal, the city I live in - and because going to parties that are that insane is just not a healthy habit to take up.
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