Started playing at around 11pm last night and ended at 5 am. Bar was full of people. Celine Dion was there with some people including the Nickel's manager (Mamas or something). She asked me to play something different, anything, as long as it wasn't one of her tunes. I obliged. She complemented me on my playing.

My oriental friend was there with yet another customer.
George, the barman, brought me my Gin 'n tonic and told me that the lady's name was Noriko and she is a very expensive high class hooker. She charges like 3000 an hour according to George.
She was talking with her gentleman friend (he looked rich) and kept slyly glancing in my direction (I wonder what this means).

At about 3 am, this very attractive black lady with a tremendous figure, came in with her man (a white dude dressed very expensive) and sat by the table close to the piano. At some point in time the white guy received a call and stepped out.
This gorgeous black woman came by the piano, slipped me a hundred, and asked me to play "les feuelles mort".
I obliged. while playing she lazed by the piano giving me an excellent view of her very , very rich cleavage and started talking about random things.
Once her friend came back she went backto the table but kept glancing at me.

at about 5 am she left (the black lady) and on her way out winked at me.

Noriko, my oriental friend got up with her gentleman friend and started heading out. Noriko dropped by quickly and whispered in my ear : "you know baby, chocolate is nice but try a bit of mandarine....believe me its much better".

Noriko smiled at her escort, and walked out with him.

I got out of the place at 6 am, headed to La Cite and doze off.

Drove home yesterday morning /bout 6 am (La Cite downtown). Had the feeling that I was being tailed by a jaguar....

Was sick the last couple of days. Got a call from the bar owner asking me to show up on last Saturday. They were expecting a full house plus some politicians.
Took some medicine to supress coughing...

Alot of smoke (they haven't banned it in this bar...don't know why...they should).
My eyes were full of tears 'cause of the cold and the smoke.

the well known oriental doll was there too. She was with some other guy (he looked like a Dr. if there's anything that looks like a Dr.) and she winked at me while I played.

On her way out with the dude (he was probably married) she slipped a fifty in my glass and smiled. I smiled back.
She made her way to tone of the hotel's rooms.
i wonder how much she charges? Whatever it is I probably couldn't afford it anyway...

Saturday night was full house.

Lotsa smoke in the room, to the point that I needed a Kleenex to dry my eyes every hour of so.

Got about 20 requests and my tip glass was full of green, mostly american currency. Seems alot of American tourists and business men/women stock the place, which is good.

This lovely young oriental woman (looked like an expensive escort) who was with this elderly gentleman, came over and leaned by the piano while I was playing. She smiled at me, slightly bending over and allowing me to glance at her cleavage. I smiled back, nodded my head lightly and continued playing.

She asked me if I could play and sing "hey jude".

I said that I will play it, but I don't sing. She smiled again, slipped a 50 in my glass and slenderly walked over to her table allowing me to view her perfect figure and her white slip that discreetly made its way into her perfectly shaped bum.

I played the song and she casually conversed with her company while every now and then looking slyly at the piano and forging a discreet smile.

I left the place at 7 AM, having secured a good tip for the weekend made it at La cite, where I tumbled into bed, dead as a doornail.

The bar was full this Thursday night.

I started at 11pm sharp (George the bartender had my Gin 'n Tonic waiting) and played as per union rules with 15 minute breaks every couple of hours or so.

We had a full house, lots of ladies and gents drinking, bubbling up, smoking, laughing and the usual stuff that happens in this places.

At 'bout 3 am two ladies stepped in and went to the far side, where the lights are dim. I recall that one ofthe ladies, not very attractive facially but in very good shape, was a former french canadian pop singer, quite known and her days. The other lady, a young black girl who looked 'bout 10 years younger was her lesbian lover, as George pointed out during my cigarette break.

Anyway, they kept to themselves with mild touching while the morning dragged on 'till the point that I played "Angie" from the stones. The tune seemed to have caught their attention at which the black lady (upon the wishes of her lover) walked up to me, congratulated me on my handling of the tune, and slipped a 100 in my tip glass. She then asked me if I could play a jazzy rendition of "les feuelles mortes" or how you spell it. It seems the older lesbian's favorite all time was the great Ives Montagne and she longed to hear the tune.

Of course I bowed showing agreement (thinking that for the hundred you just gave me baby, I'll play whatever song you want lying on the piano with my hands touching the keyboard backward).

The dyke started crying upon hearing of the song while her young black female lover was carressing her. I noticed George the bartender was looking straight at them and I figured judging on how his mustache zoinked that he probably had a hardon.

George the bar man's a case in point.

He's a draft dodger from Greece that jumped the ship and ended in Montreal in the 70's. He enticed a young french canadian flower, married her, became a canadian, and has been working the bar scene ever since.


George brought me my Gin 'n tonic as always to get my fingers warm and gave me the first request for the night (his). Bar seems to be filling up. Let's see what these fingers can conjure on the warm and inviting piano keyboard.

Was called in to do some extra playing Wednesday night. Suits me fine since I get paid extra.

Anyway, sat on the piano, and played a mild touche in order to get the feel of the instrument and warm up a bit.

George , the bartender brought me my Beefeater Gin 'n tonic (I hate Gordon's) and gave me my first request (from him).

the bar was pretty empty except for a couple on the far corner, an older gentleman (looked in his 50s but obviously well off, as most of the place's clientele) and a young lady probably in her 20s and obviously not his wife.

I played something mellow, and low so as not to disturb them.

After 'bout 2 hours the older guy came to the piano and asked for my first official request of the night, and of the new job...an old tune (from the 40s) called "I'll never smile again". the young lady was looking into hyperspace and quite apathetic towards the cigarette she was lighting.

they must've spent 'bout 5 hours sitting, chatting, laughing (at least he was...she was surely faking it).

Anyway, I must've done a good job 'cause on his way out the old guy slipped a fifty in my tip glass...George the barttender gave me a sly smile both for the tip,and for the fact that the old dude must be cheating on his old lady since he was making his way (according to George) to one of the executive suites with this young flower...

Got out and drove back to the west island 'bout 5 AM. George told me to be alittle early tomorrow (Thursday night) 'cause the bar's pretty full and my repertiore starts at 11 pm sharp!

My professor at Julliard told me "practice, practice, practice and you'll make it..if you don't practice you'll end up like some o' those hippies in tight pants.."

Well, I practiced and I practiced alot. But it didn't happen, not at least the way it was suppose to happen. I never made it in the classical scene but I did become a success in the bar "don't shoot the pianist" scene.

My first night in this new job is this Thursday. I'm the piano man at this posh bar. I checked out the piano (a beautiful well maintained Steinway grand. Rare to find such a masterpiece in a bar, but this was a good sign).

I'll also be bringing in my giant tip glass; a bit passe but it performs its duty well.
Until tomorrow night then, here's to my new job.