Sushi and Sadako’s story >> Inspired by legend, resto manager folds origami for world peace

by CHRIS BARRY Name: Gordon Bradley Age: 37 Occupation: Manager of the Soto Express sushi fast food outlet on Metcalfe Salary: Minimum wage-plus Bio: This suave and benevolent Mile-End sexpod was employed as a technical writer in the software biz before giving it all up to work in the endlessly rewarding field of fish last summer. A talented author with a Masters’ degree in English, this former Haligonian says he’s “making way less money now but I’m 10 times happier. I really enjoy becoming part of the neighbourhood through hearing people’s stories.” Something he has recently been inspired to do: Taken by the story of Sadako Sasaki, a 12-year-old Hiroshima girl who died from leukemia in 1955, and Japanese lore, he is in the process of folding 1,000 origami paper cranes and distributing them to customers. What the hell the point is of folding up a bunch of paper cranes and handing them out to people: According to Japanese lore, after distributing one’s 1,000th origami paper bird, one’s fondest wish will be granted. What he plans on wishing for: Concerned with recent events, Gordon plans on wishing for world peace. Is he in the process of having of nervous breakdown? No. After world peace is attained, does he have any intention of folding up another 1,000 birds and wishing that he be transported back to the 19th century to work as a disciplinarian at an orphanage for sexy teens? No. Do customers ever tell him to go fuck his paper bird and just hurry up with their kappa-maki? “Oh no, it’s such a simple thing, but it makes people so happy.” How often Soto Express customers ask this 6’2” blue-eyed blond if he is Japanese or has any Japanese blood in him: Much more often than you would think. Does the question generally come up after they’ve taken a good long glance at his crotch area? No. A few Japanese things Gordon is thrilled about: Hello Kitty and her Sanrio penguin brother Bad Badtz Maru, Shonen Knife, miniaturized electronics, Japanese rockabilly boys and Kawaii girls. Best part of the job: Meeting people. Worst: Mopping the floor. Two organizations Gordon can’t say enough good things about: Doctors Without Borders and Amnesty International. Something else he does: Writes. When not stuffing California rolls, Gordon is busy writing his screenplays and short stories, several of which have been published. A creative adventure he is currently involved in: Taking a few of his short stories and animating them to “eventually put online somewhere.” Childhood ambition: To buy a Winnebago and drive around seeing places and trying out various local cuisines. Where you might find him hanging out: Miami, Sky. Favourite alcoholic beverage: Moosehead beer. Musical preferences: The Ramones, Rufus Wainwright, Liz Phair. Last book read: Swann, by Carol Shields. Words of wisdom: “Don’t be hard on yourself because there’s a whole lineup of other people waiting to do it.” :

Federal not-so-express >> Mail delivery has its hazards, but going postal isn’t one of them

by CHRIS BARRY Name: Albert Mosca Age: “As old as the universe.” Occupation: Mailman Salary: Approximately $20 an hour Bio: This uniquely talented sculptor, poet, performance artist and devoted agent provocateur got into the postal biz 14 years ago believing, “it was a Mickey Mouse job that I could do. But was I ever wrong, delivering mail is fucking gruelling!” A college dropout, Albert is probably the most cultured postal worker this side of Cliff Clavin, even if he does choose to live in Ville Emard and doesn’t like television. Something that will get you into trouble at Canada Post: Losing mail. “Oh yeah, you can’t fuck with the mail. There are disciplinary measures in place for that.” Does he know of any Canada Post employee ever getting fired? No. Is he ever tempted to seek revenge on rude customers by wiping his dirty ass with their postcards and giggling about it afterwards? “Hey, seriously, you can’t fuck with the mail, man.” Do dogs truly hate mailmen as much as legend would have us all believe? “Oh yes. It ain’t no joke, man. I had it out with a Rottweiler just today and all I really have to defend myself with are a handful of letters. Well, I do have mace, actually, but I don’t want to use that.” One lame joke he hears almost every day: People telling him that it’s okay, he can just keep their bills. “You can just imagine how redundant that line gets after awhile.” Best part of the job: All the time he gets to think profound thoughts while walking around on his route. Worst: The petty harassment he receives from his co-workers. Something that he does to better get along with his co-workers: Pretend that he’s an idiot, “so people think I’m stupid and not a threat.” One question he was asked during his initial job interview: What he would do if another employee was harassing him and preventing him from doing a good job. Did he answer by saying he would come in the following day with a semi-automatic rifle and blow the motherfucker’s head into 1,000 tiny little pieces along with all the other insolent cocksuckers who work in his bullshit department? Not exactly. Does he feel the reputation postal workers have of “going postal” is at all warranted? No. “I used to work on the production line at the Chrysler plant in Windsor, and let me tell you, the guys there had a lot more pent-up rage in them than anybody I’ve ever met at Canada Post.” Where you might find him hanging out: Sapphir, Jupiter Room, Parking on Thursday nights. Last book read: Getting Married, by George Bernard Shaw. A few of his literary faves: Thomas Mann, W. Somerset Maugham, John Galsworthy. Musical faves: Brahms, Stravinsky. A recent film he liked: Mulholland Drive. Words of wisdom: “I do not like to have my philosophy reduced to a platitude for your newspaper to print, but… it’s the pain in the ass that keeps us kicking.” :

Slicing and dicing

>> Autopsy attendant chops up bodies to find out what makes them stop ticking

by CHRIS BARRY
Name: Kurt Hemmings

Age: 28

Salary: $35,000 per annum

Occupation: Autopsy attendant/pathology assistant.

Bio: This stylish Plateau resident started his career at the Montreal General Hospital as a lab technician who longed to be chopping up bodies in the autopsy room across the hall. His superiors, cognizant of the fact that Kurt was spending all of his free time loitering around the corpses, recognized his potential and eventually offered to train him for the position of autopsy attendant. Should you ever find yourself at the General having a tonsil, breast or testicle removed, there is an excellent chance it will be Kurt who slices it up downstairs in the lab a few hours later--just to make sure that everything turned out kosher. He says that since starting the job he is less jumpy and no longer afraid of the dark.

Something that can make him a little uncomfortable: Carving up people he knew--like recently deceased co-workers, neighbours or old friends. "It doesn't happen that often but it still happens. I draw the line at family members."

Does the autopsy room smell bad? Sometimes. "It can smell of shit or really rotten meat. Especially when the freezer is on defrost cycle or on really hot days when it decides to shut down completely."

Has he ever eaten his lunch in the autopsy room beside a gutted corpse? Many, many times. And hospital cafeteria food, no less.

Has a corpse ever suddenly sat up on the table and asked him to stop tickling it? Not yet.

On necrophiliacs working in the biz: "I don't think there are too many but there is one story going around about an orderly in one of the local hospitals who was caught jerking off by a body in the autopsy room. I'm not sure if it's true or not. Most people are pretty respectful around here. People tend to lose their sexual appeal once they're dead, you know."

Does he find that male cadavers with rigor mortis are generally sporting erections? No, not that he has seen.

During sex does he have trouble forgetting about what his partner's genitals might look like severed, diced and spread out on his work table? No.

Something else he does: Teaches swing dancing at at his dance school on Mont-Royal E., Swing Express.

Something he likes doing: Playing and collecting vintage guitars. He's rumoured to play a mean banjo as well. He also collects vintage clothes, cameras, furniture etc.

Childhood ambition: To become a doctor. "Now I get to play surgeon for real, albeit a little after the fact."

Literary preferences: Pulp fiction.

Musical preferences: Muddy Waters, T-bone Walker, jazz, blues.

One film he really likes: Kurt is a big fan of all of Jacques Tati's work but says Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot stands out among his favourites.

Words of wisdom: "Enjoy life while you can. I've seen way too many instances where one minute someone is doing fine and the next thing you know they are spread out on my table." :

Schlong for hire

>> Massive member is worth its weight in gold for male prostitute/school teacher

by CHRIS BARRY

Name: “Robbie”
Age: 38
Occupation: Prostitute/Elementary schoolteacher
Salary from prostitution: $25,000 per annum
Bio: Sporting a labonza that is nine inches long and seven inches in circumference, this handsome stud has been earning big bucks in the glamorous world of prostitution for just over a year now. When not sucking cocks for money, “Robbie” is a devoted and passionate elementary school teacher who absolutely adores his work. A frequent advertiser in this newspaper, he claims to have “really grown as a person since taking up hooking.”
His price: $80 an hour.
His phone inquiries to job ratio: Three to one.
How he sells himself to potential customers: He tells them that he’s tall, unhairy, and hung like a horse.
The thing they are usually most impressed with: His horse cock. “It’s like a gold mine.”
The most customers he’s serviced in any one night: Six.
Does he ever find himself with a client and unable to get an erection? Very rarely. “Ninety-nine per cent of the time I can get it hard in the beginning at least. It’s really just a matter of will power and concentration.”
Is it the slender nude bodies of his elementary school students that he concentrates on? Absolutely not.
Does he ever worry he’s been hired by a lunatic who has plans to carve him up into little pieces before the night is through? “No more so than when I go home with a guy I just met in a club. It’s exactly the same thing.”
Something he finds “indecent”: Asking customers for money in advance.
Does he service many female customers? Not really. “But when I do it’s usually weird. The last woman who hired me was rather large and unattractive and all she wanted was for the two of us to take off our clothes and have me tell her how pretty she was. No sex, she just wanted me to help her with her self-esteem. But women are usually more trouble than they’re worth. Ninety per cent of the time the job falls through.”
How many of his customers consider themselves to be straight: At least 50 per cent.
Does he believe that the “straight” men who pay top dollar to gnaw on his ding-dong are actually heterosexual? “Sure, they just like to suck off a guy every once in awhile.”
One thing he isn’t crazy about doing with customers: Bum fucking. “It’s a little dangerous and you need a good hard-on to fuck like that with a condom. And not all of my customers inspire great hard-ons.”
Does he ever worry he is going to get hired by the father of one of his students? “Yes, always, and it has actually happened.”
Where he likes to hang out: In any Karaoke bar anywhere.
Last book read: Dieu et nous seuls pouvons, by Michel Folco.
Musical preferences: House, classical, jazz. “Everything.”
Favourite film of all time: Gone With the Wind.
Words of wisdom: “Never judge a man before you’ve walked a mile in his shoes.” :

Keeping it clean

>> A good housekeeper is hard to find

By CHRIS BARRY

Name: Chris MacKinnon

Occupation: Housekeeping supervising manager (Montreal General Hospital)

Age: 35

Salary: $35,000 par annum

Job description: Keeping patients' rooms clean. Nurturing other housekeepers and helping them to grow into first-class disinfecting machines.

Quote: "A good housekeeper who takes their job seriously is hard to find and when you get one, it's like a little gift from Christ that should be cherished."

Bio: This fey yet alternately strapping Rosemount resident has a way with a mop that others can only dream about. He first honed his cleaning skills as a McDonald's employee and did such impressive work that he was promoted to manager and given the chance to develop the supervisory talents that he employs today. An ambitious and dedicated worker, he has been cleaning and guiding other housekeepers in their duties since the early '90s, at both the Royal Victoria Hospital and most recently at his new home, the Montreal General.

Best part of job: Going down to the morgue. "I love it. It's so creepy and quiet down there and I get a sense of history thinking of all of the corpses that have passed through the place. Once I got to look inside the freezer and it was incredibly cool--all of these bodies in white bags, tied up like candies on each end and just lying on the floor like little dead campers in their sleeping bags. They also have all these human brains down there, some in jars and others that they keep floating around in what looks like pickle barrels. Tons of brains floating around in a barrel, like you could go bobbing for them or something. It's really neat."

Worst part of the job: "Being looked down upon by the rest of the hospital staff because we are just 'lowly housekeepers.' Doctors are the worst."



Some important hospital codes that all housekeepers need to know.

Code Red: Fire.

Code White: Violent patient. Sometimes when psychiatric patients start getting antsy and flip out, housekeepers are asked to put their feather dusters down for a few minutes and rush to the scene to help restrain them. They get paid extra for this.

Code Brown: A call to clean up vomit, blood, urine or feces. Any housekeeper worth his/her salt will clean excrement off of the walls of the psychiatric ward without even batting an eye. All housekeepers must be comfortable with human waste. "A lot of patients miss the toilet and others have accidents on the way to the bathroom. So you often need to follow a trail of poop back from the toilet to that patient's room. It's not so bad, really."

How much excrement he cleans up on an average day: Approximately two cups of vomit, three pounds of feces, and one litre of urine.

Favourite sex act: Outdoor cruising

Favourite drink: Guruka (Guru and Vodka)

Favourite watering hole: Stud Bar

Favourite TV show: Bewitched

Last book read: Photographing Fairies, by Steve Szilagyi

Favourite Film: The Exorcist

Philosophy: What goes around comes around

Come back swinging

A year after the Supreme Court ruling on swingers clubs, Montreal’s hopping échangiste scene is changing dramatically

by CHRIS BARRY
Come December, it will be one year since the landmark Supreme Court ruling came down, stating that on-site boinking in membership-only “swingers” clubs was no longer a criminal activity. The result, perhaps not all that surprisingly, has had a significant effect on the local swingin’ scene, as the curious but heretofore understandably cautious have been heading out to our fair city’s numerous échangiste, or swinger, clubs in record numbers.

No longer need one worry that the cops are going to bust in and arrest everyone just as you’re about to blow your love load into some sexy échangiste, dragging you and your unfulfilled erection up to the inevitable throng of media waiting outside to report upon your most important of arrests. These days, the concern among longtime échangistes tends to be whether the recent influx of newbies is actually helping or hurting the local swinging subculture.
Jean Hamel, who heads up the Quebec Swingers Association, notes that a lot of veteran (for lack of a better word) swingers have been avoiding the established commercial échangiste clubs lately in favour of more discreet, private gatherings, run out of people’s homes or in motels whose rooms have been rented out en masse for the occasion.
“What’s happened since the Supreme Court judgment,” says Hamel, “is that we’re starting to see more voyeurs than participants in the clubs. Before, on a typical Saturday night at, say, l’Orage, you’d find maybe 200 people, and 175 of them would be having sex while the other 25 were either newcomers or voyeurs. But that’s completely turned around now. These days you may have 200 people coming out and 175 of them won’t be doing anything while the other 25, who want to have sex, find themselves too intimidated by the other 175 people looking at them. This is a big problem.”
Home is where the hard is
Hamel estimates there are about 20,000 swingers in Montreal, with half that number being what he calls occasional swingers, i.e. folk who make the scene every once in awhile but aren’t full-on devoted to the lifestyle.
“Back when there were only one or two clubs, everybody would come out and these places would always be full,” he notes. “Now, sure, you have a lot more places, but the core community is still pretty much the same people, only they’re spread out in all these different clubs. So these days, it’s possible you could head out to, say, Club Nuance on a Saturday night and find no more than six other couples there. Honestly, I’d be surprised if we didn’t see some club closings in the next year or so.
“What’s been happening,” Hamel continues, “is that many of the real swingers have been abandoning the clubs in favour of the private houses, like Chez Catherine. At the private houses, you don’t have all the facilities of the clubs, swimming pools, jacuzzis and the like, but the people going there are looking to have sex—it’s not about going out to dance or just look at people. The private houses are smaller and a lot of the people already know each other. If you’re there as a voyeur, you could feel unwelcome, like you really should be participating. It’s not a legitimate pressure, certainly not one put on by the owners of the houses, but a pressure you might feel anyway if you’re, you know, the only person with your clothes on in a room full of naked people. Similarly, if you’re in a house with 40 other couples and you’re the only couple not participating, you might find yourself feeling kind of awkward.”
Young and the restless
One thing, as anybody who’s ever spent time at any of the local échangiste clubs will tell you, is that the swinging set are a very respectful lot—nobody is pressuring anybody to do anything they don’t feel like doing. As Alain Joyal, he of the hugely popular l’Éclipse/l’Auberge le 1082 complex and the man behind local Web site infolibertins.com, points out, “single women are way less likely to receive unwanted attention in an échangiste club than on the street or in another, more traditional, club. It’s just not acceptable. Everyone understands and respects that.”
Perhaps that good word is getting around more these days. Joyal reports that the clientele stepping into l’Auberge le 1082 complex keeps getting younger and that the number of single women coming out continues to multiply.
“The crowd at [dance club] l’Éclipse is actually very, very young. And on a good Saturday night, you’ll find maybe 200 people having sex inside l’Auberge le 1082, with the average age being about 30. But we get many people in their early twenties coming here now as well. On big theme weekends, people are reserving their rooms and lockers well in advance, because inevitably they’ll all be sold out if they decide to wait until they get here.”
So, if l’Auberge le 1082 is any indication, certainly not all local swinger clubs are feeling the negative effects from the sudden influx of voyeurs among their ranks. It might well be that these newcomers to the scene just need a little time to adapt to the magical world of swingin’. And then, before you know it, perhaps a whole new legion of young swingers might find themselves comfortably throwing their panties to the wind and announcing loudly in a room full of strangers, “Come fuck me, everybody, I understand the scene now and I’m all ready to go!” Perhaps the local swinging scene is just suffering from growing pains. Time will tell.

Racy places

>> Spots where things get hot

    So, you’ve been entertaining the idea of getting naked in a room full of swingers but haven’t quite figured out where you want to do it yet? The following is a list of establishments where you can find other couples to do the nasty with, or, to simply explore the swinging lifestyle before deciding to get down and dirty yourself.

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- L’Éclipse Night Club/Auberge le 1082 1082 Rosemont E., 272-1082, www.le1082.com
The happenin’ spot at the moment, l’Eclipse/Auberge le 1082 is an enormous complex. Attracting a slightly younger, “good-looking” crowd, le 1082 boasts a whirlpool spa that can accommodate up to 30 people, a large, spacious sauna and a “fantasy room” that’s said to really get going weekend nights.
- Club Nuances 4467 St-Laurent, 845-1741, www.clubnuances.com
The former home of the notorious yet highly celebrated club l’Orage, Nuances may not be packing them in lately like l’Orage did in its heyday, but it’s still well worth investigating.
- Club Nuances 4467 St-Laurent, 845-1741, www.clubnuances.com
The former home of the notorious yet highly celebrated club l’Orage, Nuances may not be packing them in lately like l’Orage did in its heyday, but it’s still well worth investigating.
- Le Lucky 7 7 René-Levesque W., 874-7777, www.clublucky7.com
The newest kid on the swingin’ block, having only opened officially this September. Gang-bang nights every Thursday and Friday.
- Auberges des Libertines 2100 Mario (Brossard), (450) 656-0160, www.aubergedeslibertins.com
Where South Shore libertines go to get down.
- Complex 3333 3333 Belanger, 807-2424, www.sauna333.com
Described on the Montreal Escort Review Board as “like a gay sauna/bathhouse except for straight people,” the 3333 has a large swimming pool, glory holes and, of course, their notorious “sex swing.”
- Montreal Sexy Boat www.montrealsexyboat.com
In the warmer months, you and your honey can climb aboard the bacchanal that is Jean Hamel’s Sexy Boat and do the deed under the stars while cruising the mighty St. Lawrence River. Leaves from the Boucherville wharf.
- Le Celeste 7067 St-Hubert, 886-5633, www.leceleste.com
Glory holes, a “Garden of Eden” room, a mirror room—what more could you ask for? Bring your mom

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    For more information on the Montreal swinging scene, and to find out where the private swinging action is, be sure to check out Jean Hamel’s Quebec Swingers Association’s Web site at www.aeqsa.com, and/or Alain Joyal’s site, www.infolibertins.com. Both Joyal and Hamel sponsor introductory swingers evenings, if you decide you want to learn all the proper etiquette before taking the plunge.

—CB

Kicking junk with TRASH
>> Jailhouse fundraiser aims to help addicts wrestle with the bear

by CHRIS BARRY
You know, kids, kicking a dope habit can be a difficult and nasty business. Not that I would necessarily know, mind you, but I watch a lot of daytime television and I've heard the stories. And I can tell you that if there is anything worse than going through heroin withdrawal yourself, it's being stuck in a room with some whiny baby who is barfing, shitting and sweating all over the place and discovering for the first time just how unpleasant an experience detoxing truly is. Trust me, this is not humanity at its finest.

It takes a special person to volunteer their time to sit through someone else's detoxification process. I mean, the whole ordeal takes at least a few days and I think it's safe to say that sitting around in some junkie's apartment, feeding them tea and special herbs and practicing reflexology on their sweaty yellow feet while trying to dodge the puke they keep spraying into the atmosphere is not most people's idea of a swell time. You've really got to be a trooper.

This is why you've got to admire the volunteers who devote themselves to TRASH--a local grassroots organization dedicated to helping junkies detox. In business for just under a year now and operating primarily by word of mouth, TRASH, which stands for Techniques and References for Addict Self-Help, has already guided several dozen addicts through the fun of withdrawal and claims to have a 90 per cent success rate.

Of course, as anyone who has ever tried wrestling with the bear will tell you, detoxing is the easy part, it's staying clean that really presents the challenge. But as head TRASH-woman Catherine Lavarenne explains, "A lot of the people who come to us have only just recently become addicted to heroin and have already tried to stop by themselves, which is practically impossible. And not everybody has the time to wait or the money to get in to the established detox centres. We are there to help and guide people through the process, discreetly and in the comfort of their own homes. Once they've detoxed we can only hope they will have the strength and wisdom to stay off dope for good."

Not surprisingly, however, finding responsible volunteers who are prepared to devote 24 hours a day for several days at a time is not that easy and, in recent months, TRASH has been forced to deny its benevolence to legions of wannabe-ex-junkies.

"The last thing we want to do," says Lavarenne, "is have somebody get themselves mentally prepared to withdraw and then let them down by not having one of our volunteers show up. So we are trying to augment our volunteer network with a couple of paid employees who can go at this full-time."

In other words, the TRASH gang needs money. Yes, the requisite applications have gone out to the requisite government and charitable organizations that fund this kind of thing, but the jury is still out on whether TRASH is in line for them big philanthropy bucks or not. In the meantime, a benefit is going down for them this Saturday, October 14 at Jailhouse Rock featuring local oom-pah punks the Subumlauts, Line 3 and Akuma. Admission is $5. :