Signs You Need Your Own Montreal Reality Show
Going out for 'one drink' never actually works.
You know that feeling when you look at your best friend and realize that the two of you are freaking hilarious and need your own show? Yeah, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You are freaking legends.
Do you and your group of friends get into the craziest adventures and have the best stories? Then I have great news for you! I've compiled a list of obvious signs that you totally need your own Montreal reality show. If you haven't tagged your bestie yet, do it ASAP because this post will speak to your soul.
You and your girlfriends have the exact same taste in men
You know it's a recipe for disaster when you're all having dinner at Grinder and notice the same guy from across the bar.
Going out for "one drink" never actually works
Going to thatfor one drink? Yeah, right! More like five drinks, ten shots and a , because wine is classy.
Your nights always end withand an after party
Going home at midnight is never an option. You NEED your chow mein fix from St. Laurent street followed by an epic after party.
You hear ridiculous rumours about yourself
Like you making out with a bouncer in front of Flyjin? In no way, shape or form is that statement true, but hey! There is no such thing as bad publicity.
You are the life of the party
The party doesn't start until you arrive. You're that one person who can turn the most boring South Shore BBQ into an adventure.
Your text conversations with people are hilarious
That time you had one drink too many and texted every single person in your phone? Rings a bell? Even your West Island car dealer got a taste of crazy you that night.
You go out A LOT
Every weekend is EPIC. Staying home and watching Netflix is never an option, because no good story ever starts with "I was watching Netflix..."
You dress to impress
Do you plan your outfits in advance? Were you pissed when you didn't make it to? You need your own show.
You made a fool of yourself in public at least once in your life
That time when you really "let the rhythm take you over" at Apt. 200 only to realize that you're not that good of a dancer the next morning. You wake up with a bunch of bruises and video proof of how much you suck at dancing.
You experience an overwhelming feeling of guilt after your nights out
"What happened last night?" is a question that your friends are used to hearing from you, followed by, "OMG, I'm so sorry."