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      Moncton,
      New
      Brunswick:
      A
      Miracle
      in
      the
      Mid-nineties
     
     
      :
      by
      Vincent
      LAVERS
     
    
   
   
    
     
      With
      a
      bustling
      population
      of
     
     
      almost
      200,000,
      the
      city
      of
      Moncton
     
     
      sits
      at
      the
      hub
      of
      greater
      New
     
     
      Brunswick.
      The
      area
      was
      once
      an
     
     
      early
      Acadian
      settlement
      known
      as
     
     
      “Le
      Coude”
      back
      in
      the
      mid
      seventeen
     
     
      hundreds,
      but
      was
      later
      renamed
      after
     
     
      Colonel
      Robert
      Monckton
      in
      1755.
     
     
      With
      a-
      rich
      Acadian
      and
     
     
      Pennsylvanian
      heritage,
      Moncton
     
     
      offers
      one
      of
      the
      most
      unique
      and
     
     
      diverse
      cultures
      in
      eastern
      Canada.
     
     
      But
      more
      importantly,
      Moncton
      has
     
     
      hot
      French
      chicks.
     
    

    
     
      I
      was
      only
      fifteen
      when
      I
     
     
      embarked
      on
      my
      first
      road
      trip
      away
     
     
      from
      my
      family.
      I
      planned
      to
      visit
      a
     
     
      friend
      of
      mine
      who
      spent
      his
      summers
     
     
      in
      New
      Brunswick;
      but
      to
      say
      that
      this
     
     
      was
      my
      only
      motive
      would
      be
      a
      lie.
      I
     
     
      had
      received
      my
      first
      kiss
      only
      six
     
     
      months
      prior,
      during
      a
      game
      of
      truth
     
     
      or
      dare
      in
      the
      Queen
      Charlotte
      library.
     
     
      Kissing
      was
      fun
      and
      all
      but
      I
      wanted
     
     
      some
      second
      base
      action,
      possibly
     
     
      third.
      I
      was
      ready
      for
      the
      next
      step
      and
     
     
      hot
      French
      chicks
      seemed
      to
      be
      my
     
     
      best
      bet
      at
      the
      time.
     
    

    
     
      It
      was
      around
      two
      o’clock
     
     
      when
      the
      bus
      came
      to
      a
      stop
      at
      the
     
     
      Moncton
      station.
      I
      remember
      the
      air
     
     
      being
      much
      drier
      than
      that
      of
      my
     
     
      native
      Charlottetown.
      I
      kept
      an
      eye
     
     
      out
      for
      chicks
      on
      the
      ride
      to
      my
      friends
     
     
      house,
      but
      the
      prey
      seemed
      sparse
      at
     
     
      best.
      The
      scorching
      August
      sun
      wasn’t
     
     
      fit
      for
      man
      nor
      beast,
      so
      we
      decided
      to
     
     
      wait
      for
      the
      cool
      cover
      of
      night
      to
     
     
      begin
      our
      expedition.
     
    

    
     
      I
      spent
      the
      rest
      of
      the
      evening
     
     
      getting
      used
      to
      my
      new
      surroundings,
     
     
      and
      enjoying
      the
      novelties
      of
      our
      out-
     
     
      door
      pool
      and
      canned
      pop.
      I
      don’t
     
     
      really
      like
      canned
      pop,
      but
      like
      any
     
     
      traditional
      islander
      I
      made
      a
      mental
     
     
      note
      to
      bring
      a
      few
      cases
      back
      home
     
     
      with
      me.
      With
      my
      cool
      canned
      bever-
     
     
      age
      in
      hand,
      I
      relaxed
      downstairs
      with
     
     
      a
      copy
      of
      The
      Times
      Transcript
      and
     
     
      studied
      an
      article
      on
      Moncton’s
      demo-
     
     
      graphics.
      The
      French
      speaking
      popu-
     
     
      lation
      was
      eighty-percent
      in
      Dieppe
     
     
      and
      almost
      forty-percent
      in
      the
      greater
     
    
   
   
    
     
      [16]
     
    
   
   
    
     
        
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Moncton
      area.
      With
      all
      of
      the
      sur-
     
     
      rounding
      communities
      taken
      into
      con-
     
     
      sideration,
      we
      had
      roughly
      a
      one
      in
     
     
      three
      chance
      of
      meeting
      a
      French
     
     
      chick
      tonight.
      Needless
      to
      say,
      the
     
     
      odds
      were
      in
      our
      favour.
     
    

    
     
      My
      friend’s
      parents
      found
      it
      a
     
     
      bit
      suspicious
      for
      two
      fifteen-year-old
     
     
      boys
      to
      shower
      and
      shave
      before
      tak-
     
     
      ing
      the
      dog
      out
      for
      a
      late
      night
      walk,
     
     
      but
      we
      explained
      this
      because
      of
      the
     
     
      recent
      hot
      weather,
      and
      they
      believed
     
     
      it.
      I’m
      sure
      we
      could
      have
      just
      said
     
     
      that
      we
      were
      going
      out
      exploring,
      but
     
     
      it
      was
      imperative
      that
      we
      brought
      the
     
     
      dog
      for
      bait,
      as
      we
      didn’t
      have
      the
     
     
      connections
      for
      booze
      or
      drugs.
     
     
      French
      chicks
      dig
      dogs.
      Trust
      me.
     
    

    
     
      Within
      twenty
      minutes,
      we
     
     
      were
      corresponding
      with
      two
      obvious-
     
     
      ly
      French
      girls
      in
      the
      local
      park.
      Our
     
     
      dog
      theory
      worked,
      as
      the
      girls
      found
     
     
      it
      ‘cute’
      that
      two
      grown
      teenagers
     
     
      would
      have
      the
      heart
      to
      ensure
      the
      dog
     
     
      was
      getting
      the
      exercise
      it
      needed.
      The
     
     
      first
      girl
      was
      skinny
      and
      had
      chin-
     
     
      length
      blonde
      hair.
      I
      can’t
      quite
      recall
     
     
      her
      name
      (I’m
      sure
      it
      started
      with
      an
     
     
      A)
      so
      for
      this
      story,
      we’ll
      call
      her
      Amy.
     
     
      The
      second
      had
      shoulder
      length
      brown
     
     
      hair,
      and
      filled
      out
      her
      thirteen-year-
     
     
      old
      frame
      rather
      nicely.
      Her
      name
      was
     
     
      Lisa,
      and
      her
      and
      |
      hit
      it
      off
      right
     
     
      away.
      They
      couldn’t
      stay
      out
      for
      long,
     
     
      so
      we
      planned
      to
      meet
      up
      later
      the
     
     
      next
      day
      to
      watch
      a
      movie.
      We
      said
     
     
      out
      goodbyes,
      and
      parted
      ways.
     
    

    
     
      In
      the
      mind
      of
      a
      fifteen-year-
     
     
      old
      boy,
      “watching
      a
      movie,”
      means
     
     
      “hardcore
      drunken
      orgy.”
      So
      as
      a
      nat-
     
     
      ural
      precaution,
      we
      discussed
      every
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Moncton:
      City
      of
      Lust
     
    
   
   
    
     
      possible
      scenario.
      What
      if
      the
      girls
     
     
      brought
      their
      twin
      sisters
      and
      wanted
     
     
      to
      get
      naked
      in
      the
      pool?
      Or,
      what
      if
     
     
      they
      just
      want
      to
      dyke-out
      and
      make
     
     
      us
      watch?
      After
      hours
      of
      plotting,
      we
     
     
      decided
      the
      best
      way
      to
      prepare
      was
      to
     
     
      go
      get
      some
      snacks
      and
      pick
      up
      the
     
     
      movie.
      And
      so
      we
      did.
     
    

    
     
      The
      next
      day’s
      heat
      was
      much
     
     
      more
      intense
      than
      that
      of
      the
      day
     
     
      before.
      We
      were
      worried
      that
      the
     
     
      intense
      heat
      would
      hinder
      our.
      sexual
     
     
      performance,
      and
      made
      sure
      to
      stay
      as
     
     
      cool
      as
      possible.
      My
      solution
      was
     
     
      buying
      a
      two-litre
      bucket
      of
      Heavenly
     
     
      Hash
      ice
      cream
      to
      eat
      on
      the
      way
     
     
      home.
      And
      what
      better
      way
      to
      wash
     
     
      this
      down
      than
      with
      a
      litre
      of
      choco-
     
     
      late
      milk?
      If
      that
      didn’t
      keep
      me
      cool,
     
     
      then
      I
      didn’t
      know
      what
      would.
     
    

    
     
      During
      the
      half-hour
      walk
     
     
      home,
      I
      managed
      to
      finish
      the
      choco-
     
     
      late
      milk
      and
      three-quarters
      of
      the
      ice
     
     
      cream.
      I
      didn’t
      feel
      sick
      at
      all,
      but
     
     
      wisely
      threw
      the
      rest
      of
      the
      ice
      cream
     
     
      in
      a
      ditch.
      The
      ice
      cream
      was
      all
      I
      had
     
     
      eaten
      that
      day
      so
      it
      settled
      in
      my
      stom-
     
     
      ach
      nicely.
      We
      met
      up
      with
      the
      girls
      at
     
     
      the
      park,
      and
      headed
      home
      for
      the
     
     
      movie/orgy.
     
    

    
     
      James
      Melkonian’s
      “The
     
     
      Stoned
      Age”
      was
      our
      feature
      presenta-
     
     
      tion.
      While
      the
      movie
      had
      a
      few
      funny
     
     
      lines,
      I
      was
      disappointed
      by
      the
      infre-
     
     
      quent
      partial
      nudity
      that
      this
      so
      called
     
     
      R-rated
      film
      had.
      But
      this
      didn’t
      both-
     
     
      er
      us
      much,
      we
      were
      about
      to
      have
      the
     
     
      real
      thing.
      The
      movie
      ended
      ninety
     
     
      minutes
      later,
      and
      we
      put
      on
      the
     
     
      Dangerous
      Minds
      soundtrack
      to
      help
     
     
      set
      the
      mood.
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     
      The
      other
      couple
      soon
      disap-
     
     
      peared
      into
      another
      room
      and
      |
      found
     
     
      myself
      beside
      Lisa
      on
      the
      couch,
      alone
     
     
      and
      quiet.
      The
      first
      kiss
      was
      nothing
     
    
   
   
    
     
      too
      exciting,
      but
      the
      repeated
      kissing
     
    
   
   
    
     
      and
      hugging
      is
      what
      got
      my
      nerves
     
     
      boiling.
      We
      were
      still
      sitting
      up
      and
      I
     
     
      was
      working
      up
      the
      courage
      to
      lie
      on
     
     
      top
      of
      her.
      But
      was
      it
      too
      soon
      to
      lie
      —
     
     
      down?
      Was
      I
      going
      too
      fast?
      Hell,
      I
     
     
      had
      no
      idea.
      I
      had
      planned
      supplying
     
     
      sex
      toys
      to
      naked
      twins
      on
      the
      deck
      of
     
     
      our
      pool;
      I
      never
      thought
      about
      the
      lit-
     
     
      tle
      stuff.
      I
      started
      to
      panic,
      and
      that’s
     
     
      when
      ‘it’
      happened.
     
    

    
     
      I’ve
      always
      wondered
      what
     
     
      she
      though
      when
      I
      blurted,
      “Be
      right
     
     
      back”
      and
      ran
      out
      of
      the
      room.
      Did
      she
     
     
      really
      think
      I
      was
      going
      to
      the
      bath-
     
     
      room,
      or
      did
      she
      know
      that
      I
      was
      about
     
     
      to
      puke
      up
      the
      entire
      three
      litres
      of
     
     
      chocolate
      that
      resided
      in
      my
      stomach?
     
     
      I
      thought
      carpeted
      bathrooms
      were
      a
     
     
      brilliant
      idea
      before
      that
      afternoon,
      but
     
     
      that
      opinion
      soon
      changed.
     
    

    
     
      Stinky
      brown
      puke
      every-
     
     
      where.
      I
      was
      very
      upset.
      The
      natural
     
     
      reaction
      is
      to
      panic,
      and
      I
      did
      for
      about
     
     
      five
      minutes
      while
      trying
      to
      clean
      up
     
     
      watery
      puke
      from
      a
      carpeted
      floor.
     
     
      Ultimately,
      I
      managed
      to
      get
      my
      friend
     
     
      in
      on
      the
      cleaning
      process
      while
     
     
      explaining
      to
      the
      girls
      that
      I
      had
      spilt
      a
     
     
      bottle
      of
      bleach.
      Good
      save.
     
    

    
     
      It
      took
      a
      while,
      but
      a
      full
      half
     
    

    
     
      hour
      later,
      I
      leisurely
      walked
      back
      into
     
     
      the
      living
      room
      to
      find
      Lisa
      listening
     
     
      to
      the
      Dangerous
      Minds
      soundtrack
     
     
      for
      the
      second
      time.
      I
      explained
      that
     
     
      we
      had
      cleaned
      up
      most
      of
      the
      bleach,
     
     
      but
      to
      be
      sure
      to
      use
      the
      upstairs
      bath-
     
     
      room
      in
      case
      of
      any
      lingering
      fumes
      of
     
     
      the
      cleaner.
      She
      obliged,
      and
      we
      got
     
     
      comfortable
      for
      a
      long
      afternoon
      on
     
     
      the
      couch.
     
     
      Did
      it
      bother
      me
      fifteen
      min-
     
     
      utes
      later
      when
      I
      realized
      that
      I
      didn’t
     
     
      brush
      my
      teeth?
      A
      little,
      but
      the
     
     
      embarrassment
      soon
      passed.
      These
     
     
      things
      don’t
      matter
      when
      you
      finally
     
     
      get
      to
      second
      base
      with
      a
      hot
      French
     
     
      chick
      from
      Moncton.