Out. OUT. Spellcheck, why you gotta make my friends look dim? Après my grammatical tantrum, I mentally thanked my lucky stars for mon ami who gave me the invite for the evening, and google mapped my way to the suggested spot du nuit.
Why bonjour, Korova! Like the divorce kid, this bar equally splits two pop yul areas: the Plateau and Mile-End. It’s frequented by many a tourist – a home away from home. Think of your uncle’s basement with $5 bevies. Oui. 5 loonies can get you a bourbon Limonade OR a pabst big boy AND a shot from 10 pm-11 pm. White girl wasted, indeed.
Though to combat the potential slur-fest, the establishment is thoughtful by offering free bowls of popcorn.
And if you know me, you know that I made besties with the bar keep to keep my bowl full! (my first born may end up working the door.)
So, you have your bev & some snacks, but it’s a straight up carb party. What’s a figure conscious fille to do?
The solution: dance the night away under the mirror ball, work the wrist at the foozball table OR, my personal fav, have an old school hockey table tournament.
And if you’re worried you won’t remember what happened? Pas de problème: take photographic evidence of the evenings progression at the photobooth provided!
Werrrrrk those angles, sweety!
Korova isn’t just for nights of debauchery, it also expands one’s cranium.
Bartender Ben began best ballin’ bad *ss brouhaha based by belle boulevard.
The charming ‘tender created ‘Trivia Night’ on sunday nights.
All trivia is based on what he finds interesting.
Wanna win? Tip well and pick his brain.
(Les filles, be warned: he’s bright, charming and CUTE. Did I mention that he’s finishing a doctorate in english lit? You’re welcome in advance.)
Dear Korova, I leave you with this thought:
Butter. Layered. Think about it!
Mlle Fabst big boy