Time Flies at Time Supper Club

By Zac Starke

A reflective ball dangles above the crowd, strobe-lights dance overhead, and the cat-walk reveals an aura of vast and provocative colours. A thunderous, resonating bass pounds in all directions against the club walls, drowning out the roar of patrons, and manifests itself as the heart-beat of Time Supper Club.

“It’s nice to always be surrounded by beautiful women, and cool people.” Says Freddy Havitov, manager and poster face of Time Supper Club.

Chasing its nine year milestone, Time Supper Club is renown for its classy, unique features, its being host to A-Lister celebrities, glamorous events, and its overall mass success as being one of Montreal’s most prestigious, and high class clubs.

Time Supper Club managers, Freddy Havitov and Polash Howlader, as well as head-busboy Emmanuel Robinson, give some insight into the history, secrets, up’s and down’s of running a successful night club.

“Around Grand-Prix weekend is going to be our ninth anniversary.” says Havitov with a grin. Located in the Old Port, on the corner of St Jaques and Cathedral, and placed in a trendy, 1930’s landmark Art Deco bank building, Time Supper Club opened it’s doors to Montrealers  during the summer of 2002 for Grand-Prix weekend.

“I think the key to our success has been our originality,” says Havitov, who has been with the club for four years now. “We were the first supper club in all of North America;” a supper club being a club which offers dinner service to clients so that patrons have the option to sit down, relax, and enjoy a high class meal before partying. Freddy continues “We even started bottle service, and it was us who started putting sparklers on clients’ bottles.” He adds, “And of course, our signature Cat-Walk, it’s kind of our calling card; it’s renown world-wide.”

 According to Polash, manager of bottle-service, and nearly synonymous with Time Supper Club, the key to their mass success is that they “treat [their] guests like family.” “The reason that we’re still on top,” says Polash with a wide smile, “is that when our patrons come in, we treat them like guests at our own homes.” He adds, “It also helps that we have the nicest venue in Montreal, amazing staff, all kinds of different people who come into the club, looking for a good time and to meet new people,” Polash continues, “And they do, Time has a very good vibe, and it’s the only club in Montreal with a catwalk.”  

“Out of my entire eight years at Time,” recalls Polash, “my best memory would have to be when DJ Sasha came.” He continues, “I think it was in 2004, I’m not sure I’ve been here for a long time, but I remember I went outside, and couldn’t see the end of the line.” He adds, “It was probably the best night I ever had here, I was so excited.”

 Amongst others, Time Supper Club has played host to celebrities like Angelina Jolie, U2, Leonardo Di Caprio, Jude Law, Morgan Freeman, Madonna, Kieffer Sutherland, Bon Jovi, Robert Downey Jr., Ben Affleck , Travis Barker, Micky Rourke, Tommy Lee, and “so many others, if I kept going I’d probably run out your entire page.” Jokes Havitov. “That’s not even counting our performers and DJ’s.” Some of Time’s passed performers include big names such as Lady Gaga, Edward Maya, Christina Ageuleira, Tiesto, DJ AM, Jazzy Jeff, The Black Eyed Peas, Sean Kingston, Drake, DJ Sasha, Steve Aoki, and Timbaland; amongst several others.

“We’ve even had Prince Andrew here,” says Freddy. “You name them, and we’ve probably had them.”

“I think what makes people want to come here,” says Freddy simply, “Is its beauty; its class.”  “I think we have the most unique club in Montreal,” elaborates Freddy. “We have the high ceilings, chandeliers, dinner service; we have all beauty and class of a fancy restaurant, combined with an up-scale club.”

 But according to Emmanuel Robinson, head-busboy, and who has been with Time Supper Club for approximately four years, the secret to Time’s allure is their “extra services, different events, and [their] resume of big name celebrities who have come to Time in the past.”

Whether the patrons be players from the Montreal Canadians, Hollywood celebrities, or just their usuals, it is certain that Time Supper Club “goes the extra mile,” as Emmanuel puts it. “Time is the only place,” he began, “where they will have us change the setup a million times in the same night to please a customer.” “Polash runs a pretty tight ship here,” says Emmanuel with a tone of humour, “he’ll spot anything that needs to be done, and yell if it’s not done right, and right away.” He continues, “Like I said before, insane extra service.”

 “But it’s cool working here,” says Emmanuel, “everyone who works here is really close with each other, and everybody gets along really well, like a family, and that’s what I think makes the club work.” He says, “Because if the people who work here don’t get along, and don’t want to help each other out, how can you expect anything to go properly?” he concludes, “It just wouldn’t work.”

 The busboys, whom are more or less the back-bone of the club, take care of everything from making sure that clients have clean tables, to switching the tables for bottle service, and essentially, the club would not function without them. For example, though the waitresses pretty faces are the surface layer of Time Supper Club’s service, it is the busboys who do all the leg work, like bringing: a client’s bottles to the table, ice buckets, limes, straws, napkins, juice to mix drinks, cups; all within five minute intervals. A busboy at Time is also afforded the luxury of cleaning and setup before the club opens, as well as after it closes, literally removing every single chair from the upstairs to the basement during the transition between dinner and bottle service at the rush hour, bringing food to the table for waitresses, and even moving couches, tables, the stage, DJ booth, and sometimes even the entire cat-walk in less than an hour before the club opens; in some instances, after moving everything, and completely re-doing the setup for the night, and then they have to put it all right back to the original layout for the night.

The busboys are also essentially the eyes and ears of the club, who oversee everything that the clients do, from puking under a table, to puking on the cat-walk, to puking on the terrasse; spilling drinks, breaking cups, throwing up in cups, as well as anything the imagination is capable of mustering up in regards to messes, and bad drunks; on occasion, the busboys have been known to bring Ginger-Ale to overly-drunk clients in order to soothe their stomachs, as well as water. Not to mention that there is always at least one busboy on bathroom detail, who walks through every few minutes to make sure nobody has sex in the bathrooms, that there is no mess in the bathrooms, and just basically to make sure the line-ups move accordingly, as well as to make sure that on the nights of blizzards that nobody uses the back door to the terrasse.

Another important aspect of Time Supper Club is it’s wide range of events and age groups which it can cater to. Time Supper Club is known mostly for its Saturday nights, but it also hosts corporate nights for companies like Phyzer, Lasik MD, and many others.  

“We do weddings, bar mitv-vahs, charity events, corporate nights, singers, fashion shows, promoter nights, parties for the launch of products, after-parties for celebrities,” says Freddy, “We try to do it all, because the trick to running a successful club is to change it up, and cover all the bases.” He continues, “For instance, on Thursdays and Saturdays our age group is typically around 25 to 28, and on Fridays we normally try to get a more college aged crowd,” says Freddy, “like around 19-ish.”

“I’d have to say though,” begins Freddy, “it’s a lot of work running a club, you’re getting calls all times of the day, you get almost no peace or quiet, and have to deal with bullshit all the time,” he says, “but its all worth it, because when the doors open up, and people start to dance and have a good time and spend money on bottles,” he continues with a smile, “then you know did your job right, and that’s when you can relax, have some drinks, and party.”

“But the downside to throwing a good party,” says Freddy, “is that there’s always gonna be some idiot who drinks too much, or starts a fight or whatever, but that’s just part of the business that you have to get used to.”

Besides the odd customer who drinks too much, the clubbing business does have its obvious downsides, and inconveniences.

 For Polash, some of those downsides are: “We have to work very, very long hours, sometimes more than 11 hours a night so that everything gets done,” says Polash. “We also have to stay awake all night; I go all weekend without seeing the sun.”

“When I see the lights come on at the end of the night,” begins Polash, “I just get happy because I know a few more hours, and I get to go home and sleep; when the club closes, we all just go home and want to relax.”

Freddy offers tips benefitting from his experience in the clubbing industry to those who hope to break into the business.

“My advice to anyone who is looking to open their own club,” says Freddy, “is don’t.”         

“Or, not now at least,” he explains, “it’s not the right time, there’s too many clubs in Montreal right now for the population; a new one is opening every other month.”

 “If you do decide to open a club though,” says Freddy, “you have to make sure to surround yourself with the right people.” He continues, “It’s a very tough, and expensive business, and it could be a while before you start to make money, because you have to get your name out there, and just try out different ways of throwing a party until you find something that works.”

  “Like I said, it takes time, money, the right people, and a lot, a lot of luck,” says Freddy.

“We’re even planning to renovate for the Spring,” says Freddy, “we put half a million dollars into the renovations so that we can re-launch Time for it’s ninth anniversary, and keep it on top in Montreal.”

“We’re even getting a giant multi-media screen on the back-wall of the club,” he says with a grin, “so it’s gonna be cool to see what happens over the next few months.”

 The lights gradually become brighter, as the DJ slowly transitions from hip hop into light rock, the drunken crowd roars for more, and boo’s the inevitable last call for drinks. The staff of Time Supper Club breath an almost unseen, and collective sigh of relief as patrons make their way out the door, and although it is the end of the night, the fun continues into its ninth year, for Time Supper Club.

Got Ink?

By Zac Starke

A seasoned aura surrounds the tawny bricks which don the building a familiar, and rustic, appearance. Teaming with potential customers, the busy corner of Guy and Sherbrooke is cluttered by honks of cars and ever-present chatter of passers-by. Staring down at the populace, a glowing crimson insignia announces Adrenaline, in tribalistic lettering; a neon bong radiates ablaze through the window. The welcoming, bowed entranceway warmly invites patrons inside to the furnishings of staff’s colloquial voices, and the pungency of emaciated skin.

Established since 1998, Adrenaline has been satisfying tattoo urges for more than a decade; with its friendly, appeasing touch that leaves customers well-informed, and proud to display their artists’ handicraft, will continue do so for many more years to come.

“You don’t wanna go to a place if you can’t sit down, and talk with someone about the tattoo,” mentions Ron Smith, an eleven year veteran artist of Adrenaline; “No matter how good you hear they are, if they're not gonna take the time out and talk to you, they're gonna rush your tattoo.”

Ron, or ‘Old School’ as personnel around the tattoo and piercing emporium recognize him, is a veteran tattooist at Adrenaline since February 2000; graciously provides insight into the everyday affairs of the tattoo world’s trend, addictiveness, and fears that sometimes ensue with the lifetime commitment of getting ink.

“The trend,” as ‘Old School’ analogizes, “rises and sets with the sun,” pointing towards the wall, he continued; “One week we'll get inundated with dolphins; another day, or week, and we’ll get roses.” Some patrons, however, as ‘Old School’ denotes, “like to come in and pick stuff off the walls.” A spur of the moment decision he is reluctant to perform due to unoriginality. "Montreal is notorious, like I said, for coming in and picking stuff off the walls,” he elaborates, "If someone comes in and picks their tattoo off of a wall, it’s not art; it's a coloring book." Giving a slight chuckle, he explains that some individuals will even go completely against artists’ advice, and tattoo anything recognizable onto themselves; “Logos is another thing; crazy shit.” He laughs, “Some guy actually got the Campbell’s Soup can on himself.” When asked about the average size of tattoo he’ll normally do; Ron put quite simply, “Everything depends on if it's their first tattoo, or one of many,” he continues, “If it's their first tattoo, a lot of the time, more often than not, they'll pick something small because they want to test the waters.” People who have already felt the sting of a tattoo needle, on the other hand, are a completely different story because they typically add onto a previous tattoo; ’Old School’ explains, “If it's somebody who's coming in that has experience, they get bigger and bigger; each time it graduates; it goes up a notch in size, and quality.” Although tattoos do appear to be on the rise in popularity and acceptance, only ten Montrealers out of sixty actually has a tattoo, but not to demean the surprising thirty-six who are plan to get one sometime in the near future. While a small, conservative number of fourteen Montrealers of sixty shiver at the thought of ever relinquishing their flesh to the sting, and alteration of a tattoo needle.

Another aspect of getting a tattoo, which most hardly realize, is the addictiveness that comes alongside it. ‘Old school’ says "My personal cliché is that, 'One is never enough, and ten is never too many.’"Having thirty-one tattoos himself, “give or take”, he joked. When asked about the general amount of people who come back for second, or more, tattoos not so long after their first, he responded, "About ninety-eight percent; it's very addictive." He went on to explain that, "the other two percent probably went somewhere else." Ron compares tattoos to shoes, in how “you can’t settle for just one pair.” According to a poll of sixty Montrealers, who have tattoos, an astonishing fifty-seven of them plan to go in sometime soon for another one, while only three have no desire for a new tattoo.

Although tattoo popularity is indeed on the rise, it is not without the stigma of fear, or regret. For some the fear is over aspects of pain, while for others that fear lies in the permanence of their decision. Ron suggests that, "Most people aren't scared of the tattoo process; they're scared about having something on their body forever." His advice to those afraid of the actual needle is that it feels like no more than a cat scratch, “or Freddy Kruger,” he says sarcastically. Ron even confesses, "I'm not even a big fan of needles; needles mean that you're at the doctor's office, or something’s wrong.”He laughs, “These aren’t like those needles; they just scratch your skin.”

Of course, tattoos never come without the chance of regret later on in life, and for those who end up not enjoying their original tattoo, Ron says “You could always get a cover-up. You’d be surprised at how good they come out, and it’s a much easier option than to remove it.” A lot of people however, wait most of their lives to get a tattoo from either family pressure, or fear of going an entire life with the possibility of a permanent mistake. “A lot, a lot, a lot of people, when they hit forty, come in to get tattoos because it’s a milestone," Ron says, "They say, 'I’m forty; I'm gonna get a tattoo!'"

Soon the interview ends, as ‘Old School’ heads off to prepare for a scheduled tattoo, he leaves the advice that a tattoo is “something you should never rush; you have your entire life to get one because it’ll be with you for the rest of your life.”

The buzz of a tattoo needle resonates throughout the shop, a dank smell of petrified skin penetrates the air, and business carries on as usual at Adrenaline.

Although a tattoo may seem to be a good idea at the time, nobody knows if they won’t be embarrassed by it in the future. Some solve this problem by getting a small tattoo in an easy spot to hide; some get cover-ups; some even go toe-to-toe with the laser removal process, which is considerably more expensive, time consuming, and painful than getting a tattoo. It is always a good idea to spend at least a few years trying to conceive an idea that one wouldn’t mind wearing for the rest of their lives, and not something spur of the moment that will most likely be regretted.

Left Out in the Rain

By Zac Starke

The rain pounds against the shallow asphalt of deMaisoneuve, as shadows of Dawson College’s ever ominous presence overlook the boulevard, students purge out the doors after their most recent classes to enjoy a certain dirty, little pleasure. The students take refuge from the rain’s assault under the narrow eaves of the school’s entrance, they fumble to retrieve lighters and ignite their cigarettes, only to utter common sighs of discontent as security approaches. Suddenly the mob stumbles into the street and the unfortunate prospects of the rain’s fury.

By law, no pedestrian, student, teacher, parent, or other, is permitted to smoke within fifty feet of school entrances, a rule that proves to not sit well with certain members of the Dawson College community.

“I respect the idea of the school’s blue line,” says one student on a similar morning, “ I just can’t take standing in the rain, or running to a gazebo half way around the school to have a quick smoke before class if it’s raining outside, it’s ridiculous.”

Student and administration smokers alike make many accommodations for the college’s anti-smoking regulations, but feel some dissatisfaction as to how Dawson College enforces them, for example being left out in the rain. Anyone can sympathize with hopes to keep dry on brisk, fall days, or so it seems. Non-smokers appear mostly un-sympathetic to the position smokers are put in on such days, some students even believe the college’s regulations on smoking aren’t firm enough. Another important factor that comes into play is the school’s apparent lack of effort in properly educating new students on the smoking regulations.

To be put mildly, student smokers and faculty alike grow ever more tired of the conditions they must face each day there is a down-poor if they wish to exercise their liberties to smoke. The majority of Dawson College smokers surveyed seem willing to abide by the rules, but are uneasy at the fact that they make all of the adjustments to the rules, yet no adjustments appear to be readily made for smokers. “Yeah, I know it’s bad to smoke, but if you’re addicted, you’re addicted!” Mentions one student, “I understand the rules, and I agree with them, but it’s wrong after we get all these new taxes and laws against smoking, that we either have to run to one of those hut-things all the way at the other end of the school, or stand in the rain and get sick.” Her eyes light up fiercely as she recalls all the instances where she did in fact catch cold. While other students consider these rules and shortcomings as excuses to finally quit the habit, the consensus among Dawson College smokers stands that the school should at least make some accommodations to smokers, for instance more gazebos around the school.

Non-smokers do not see eye-to-eye with their smoker counterparts however. The non-smoking body of the school, in majority, appear to have no sympathy for the smokers who are put out by these anti-smoking regulations. In fact, the general consensus amongst this group seems to be that the rules are not strict enough on smokers, and the school should enforce the laws much more harshly in order to sway smokers into quitting. In a survey done of ten non-smokers, all of the interviewees harbour similar thoughts on the matter, all ten believe if someone wishes to smoke, they should “reap what they sow, and stand in the rain to puff on their cancer-sticks,” as Rhea Bisaillion remarks, a Dawson College student, as her colleagues nod their heads in approval to this statement.

While some students and faculty believe the rules to not be firm enough, others have no clue as to what the terms of conduct regarding smoking are, until after they are already in the school’s system. Most new students who recently began at Dawson this semester are not properly informed about the rules, and even sometimes receive fines at the Du Maisoneuve entrance for smoking within the non-smoking perimeter. Most are unaware of the true borders to the non-smoking area, as it still has yet to receive the easily recognizable blue line, which persist at every other entrance of the college. Though some rules remain unclear to most students, smokers and non-smokers alike, no student interviewed feels security is doing a decent job. When requested for interviews, comments, regulations, or information which pertains to smoking at Dawson College, all are coldly declined and un-obliged by security personnel.

Dismay is a sentiment which both sides of the smoker and non-smoker Dawson community empathize along the fence in regard to revelations of the school’s apparent inability to properly inform smokers of the rules. Even through all the fog of uncertainty and shortcomings presented by smoking laws, the smoking community at Dawson College in simply wishes the college, or Province for that matter, make some headway in outfitting extra smoking cabannes around the school to shield their weary bodies from torrents of rain when those gloomy days are in the forecast. Though smokers are aware of how smoking affects their bodies, as well as health long-term, they concur it is a freedom of choice, a negative one be that as it may, a liberty they don’t mind the Quebec CEGEP imposing on, so long as the college takes some sympathy that others do not.

Though such anti-smoking regulations are put in place for the overall well-being of the Dawson Community, smokers melanchollicaly anticipate the day that they can smoke in peace on a chilled, rain slicked day.

The light of day becomes shadows while the moon, once again, starts to hang itself in the sky and the populace files out from the crowded doorways. The portion of smokers identify themselves with the signature chik chik of their lighters as they fire up their cigarettes. They take quick draws, toss aside the remainder of the cigarettes, almost in unison, and vacate the area, leaving behind only the butts of their cigarettes to signify they were ever there. Lingering for days to come are the cigarettes’ remains, littering the streets just like the members of the Dawson College Community who wish to smoke them