13 months earlier
My first night in Toronto was pretty fucked up. I said goodbye to friends and family at home in Holland, tears in my eyes, but knowing it was for the better. We had a few good drinks the night before, my dad included, so I left with a massive hangover. I never forget that first moment I set foot on Canadian ground. It was like I never left home, raining and pissing down like I had never even seen in Holland. I do not like waiting, in general, so I took a cab for fourty Canadian dollars to take me to the Howard Johnson on Roncesvalles Avenue. First, I had an awkward check in moment with the receptionist (I could not express myself in English for some reason) and then I was in my room, all alone wondering why the fuck I even went to this place. The next two days would not be any different, with me wondering around in T.O., like a lost little kid. I went to a club two times in a row but did not meet anybody and did not talk to anybody. I walked back for forty minutes and did not give a shit, still wondering what the fuck I was doing in this city. Let me tell you, shit got better. After staying in the Howard Johnson for three nights it was time for me to go to the Canadiana, which is a hostel on Widmer Street, as downtown as it gets. I have to admit, I was pretty nervous. Even though this might make me sound like a pussy now, I was worried about sleeping in one room with people I had never met before. But, you know, I grew into the idea. My roommates were alright and I had a good time the first few days. I met these guys from Ecuador, Germany and Italy. All good so far, until I met my bro Nabeel again. I will tell you his story in a nutshell. He is a pretty big, friendly looking black dude from Somalian descent who was about two years older than me. I worked with Nabeel’s sister back in Austria on an internship in 2008. That is how we met. We went out a few times when he was visiting his sister, as they also lived in the Netherlands, and it turned out Nabeel is a fucking awesome guy. We never talked again until a few weeks before I went to Canada when he added me on Facebook by coincidence. I found out about him being there when I was already planning to go to Canada and pretty much planning on going to Toronto as well. So we were about to meet up once again, over four years later.
Following my awkward weekend at the hotel on Roncesvalles Avenue I arrived at the Canadiana on a Monday morning. After having a few drinks with some fellow backpackers me and Nabeel started drinking after which my bro decided to show me the Kensington Market Area, also known as Chinatown. You see, this is one of these areas in Toronto where you can have a good time without checking the clock. So we got down in Chinatown. We went to Sneeky Dee’s, a pub, where we met a Jamaican guy outside that talked us into buying his CD and having a greasy drink in a nasty bar somewhere in an alley. I was about to get depressed after my first two days in the six but this night made me feel it again, thanks to Nabeel. We had a great night, it ended with me going back to the hostel and Nabeel taking the Vomit Rocket (apparently a night liner bus that everybody likes to puke on) to Rexdale, where he lived. I went to the hostel and was about to dive into bed. When I reached my room I tried to get up on the top of a bunk bed on the left side of the room, because I thought this was my bed, when some guy with an Italian accent told me: ´´dude, you zztrying to kizz me´´? After which I was scared out of my ass! Turned out they put my linen in another bed (with an Italian guy), which I was trying to get into. Thank god the Italian dude was ok with me almost raping him, and a few moments later I found the right bed. We had a good laugh about it afterwards. Me and Italian dude. He later told me he mentioned the incident to his wife, and she laughed really loud. Those other guys were good company too. They were working so I did not hang with them much but the next Saturday I had a party with the German guy and his, also German, fellows. It was pretty awesome since I speak pretty decent German. We went to a bar called the London tap house for a pre Halloween party and I kissed one of his German female friends from Munich, but never really hit on her because she had really bad breath. Besides this shit the night was pretty fucking awesome with those people I met only a few days ago.
Eventually, the start of my time in Canada was not so bad after all. It was a few weeks later when things got really awesome. I met some new people in the mean time and life was going on like normal, like I was not in a totally different environment over six-thousand kilometers from my natural habitat. Nothing special, just a lot of drinking and partying those first weeks. I hung out with Nabeel a few more times which was always a good time. He worked downtown so we could pretty much hang at the hostel every night after he was done. I partied my way through Toronto and started to feel better than ever. Even though I was spending thousands of dollars from my dad’s trust fund, it was awesome. I mean like, what the fuck are you going to do with a trust fund anyway? In the economy I live in at home you cannot buy shit, no house, no car, so why the hell not? I do not even like cars, on top of that, they are a really stupid investment. Worse, I can´t even drive. This was what I liked to do with it. And I had no regrets. Welcome to life, you only get to live it once.
In the mean time I took care of some important stuff. I got my SIN (Social Insurance Number), a Canadian cell phone and a bank account. The regular stuff anybody who just arrived on a Working Holiday Visa, like me, would do. I got fucked over with a phone plan for my old phone with a new company, but who knew. I am not the research kind of guy. So I got a cheap ass Canadian phone with a new plan, because there is always a solution, for every problem. One more issue that was starting to get a problem was finding a place to stay, the matter was getting urgent because I could only stay in the hostel for a few more days. I made up my mind and decided I would stay In Toronto for a while instead of traveling to some other place. I was checking websites like craigslist and kijiji on a daily basis but had a hard time finding something. One night I took the subway and bus to Weston Road, somewhere far from the glory of downtown Toronto, to find out nobody was there. Not like I was planning to live here anyway, but still, I made an appointment with somebody to find out the address and person didn’t really exist. Welcome to the big city. These weeks were good times to though, I visited some great places like the CN tower and had the time of my life. Two days before I had to get out of my hostel I had another appointment to see a room in a shared house on Bloor and Dufferin Street. The location was too good, which is why I did not expect anything from this place. Turned out I was right, the place sucked, but since the location was still pretty good and the size of the room itself alright, I took it. I left my personal data with some sketchy Indian landlord and just decided to trust him as I was running out of options as well as time rapidly. We made an agreement about me moving in next Thursday, right after Halloween.
Because the hostel was located on pretty much walking distance from the hostel we had the opportunity to do something else fun during my stay. I wanted to visit an NBA game for a long time already, and now I finally got the chance. I got some tickets for Nabeel and me to visit the Toronto Raptors season opener on October 31st. We planned to party after the game since it was Halloween. This game was something else, when you’re used to seeing European soccer games an NBA game is a different story. We had a great night, even though or (already) beloved Raptors lost. We took the party downtown after the game. Me and my buddy landed in a bar called the Crocodile Rock. We were the only ones not wearing a costume. So after feeling a little weird being the only two stupid Dutch guys who ignored the dress code the party started. I met a big blond girl who was at least a few years older and a few pounds heavier than me, but she was hot. Turned out we had a lot of similar interests. Her name was Kimberley and she was down to go. Buddy Nabeel choose to take the Vomet Rocket down to Rexdale again and me, Kimberly, her fat friend and the fat friend´s fat boyfriend decided to go to her place. The fat girl’s boyfriend turned out to have a car. So we drove on the Gardiner Express Way, fat girl and her boyfriend in the front, me and Kimberley in the back. We were doing the usual, making out, touching each other, like two people on a proper one night stand do. Fat girls boyfriend (they apparently had two kids) was smoking a joint in the driver’s seat. He did not pay any attention to the steering wheel for about half an hour, it made Kimberley ask me if I was scared (which I definitely was), and I told her I was just happy to be really drunk. We made it to her street when fat girl and her fat boyfriend told us they would be heading home, thank god. She lived in some basement in a pretty decent neighborhood. We went into her place, while she apologized that she only had vodka and weed, no problem for me at all bytheway. So that’s exactly what I worked with. We smoked a joint and took two shots each while having a good, deep conversation. Kimberley told me she was heading to Australia in a month, which sucked to be honest, because I would have liked to fuck her again a few times in the upcoming months.
I took one of my spare chances to sneak into the washroom and freshen up, knowing full well about what would be coming next. She was waiting on the couch when I walked back into the tiny basement living room, ready to shine. She pulled me down, threw me on the couch and spread her legs over mine. Just enough so that her big but could slowly grind over my rapidly growing third leg. An arousing moment. Kimberley might not have been a ten, but she damn sure had the horny factor. Let alone the stuff she was wearing, which was one of the biggest turn ons. She wore a black shirt under her Halloween outfit, which was see-through in the middle, so you could literally see half of each of the two big ass boobs she proudly owned. I have no idea whoever came up with a design like that. But if there is some kind of hall of fashion designers fame you would be introduced by tomorrow if it were up to me. I love when woman dress in a way that shows off what they have. The bigger the better. Whether it are your boobs, your ass, your endlessly long legs or whatever, show them off. My hand soon found its way under the see-through shirt I idolized. No matter how beautiful they both looked in of the very masterpieces the clothing industry had the honours of producing, I could not keep my hand of them. They were perfectly shaped, sized and had a certain softness that could not be exceeded. As like you were holding two perfectly symmetric pieces of mozzarella cheese, just incredible. Minutes later we were in her bedroom and it turned out Kimberley was a pretty crazy chick. Like the scratches that were all over my back after she was done with me kind of crazy. She pretty much wore me out, good for her that’s exactly the way I like it. After our little adventure she asked me to spend the rest of the night. I wanted to, but also knew I had to go to my new room and check out of the Canadiana before 11AM. I decided to leave horny Kimberley and thanked her for the good times. I was walking up her block and found myself to be on Gerrard Street. Back then I didn’t have a fucking clue where the hell Gerrard Street was. All I remember is looking at the CN Tower and thinking my hostel is right next to there so if I keep walking in this direction I’ll be fine. It took me about two hours but I was fine like I expected. I remember thinking on the way there, while enjoying a pretty pleasant Toronto October morning, as my body was still covered in an odor of sex: My life is pretty fucking awesome.