Pitbull‘s reputation precedes him. I got to Jean Drapeau early to make sure I didn’t miss a second of his set. The first Pitbull fans I saw were two girls from out of town who sprinted past me at Berri-UQAM as the familiar “bomp bomp bommmppp” cried out from the yellow line train. Of course, the doors were firmly closed when they got there, and they both wailed “NO!!! PITBULL!!!” at the same time. I thought they were being overdramatic, as it was still hours before Pitbull was slated to perform. Later in the night, their cries would echo in my ears and be mixed with those of hundreds of others.
At the venue, the girlies really showed up and showed off. There was a custom tapestry that said “live. laugh. love Mr. Worldwide” that was hot pink with hearts all over it, with a picture of the man superimposed over a larger and more translucent image of himself. Another said “gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss” in a whimsical pink font with Pitbull amongst the clouds. Even the sporadic torrential downpour of the day couldn’t beat the crowd’s spirits, with many people sporting a variety of coloured and clear ponchos over carefully curated outfits like a sea of gumballs.
I was in the most sensible outfit I’ve ever worn to a concert: waterproof off-brand Blundstones, jeans, and my bland full-zip green raincoat that goes almost to my knees. That didn’t matter though, because I was determined to see Pitbull regardless of what the Montréal skies had in store for me, even if I looked like a kindergartener ready for recess.
The excitement for Pitbull’s upcoming set was palpable, especially as Clay and Friends wrapped up their set and left the stage after having us cheer for Mr. 305. As Clay and Friends left the stage, the lights went off as expected for the set and equipment changes between musical acts. Then an unexpected announcement came over the intercom in French. No one around me reacted, so I thought I was losing my mind or misinterpreting. Then the English announcement rang out and people around me began screaming and crying.
After the verbal announcements, the main screens began alternating between, “ATTENTION SVP; En raison d’un problème mécanique de l’avion, Pitbull a le regret de devoir annuler sa performance prévue ce soir au Parc Jean-Drapeau. Vous serez remboursé automatiquement. SVP, quitter le site dans le calme en direction du métro Jean-Drapeau et suivre les indications de notre personnel. Merci.” and “YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE; Due to a plane mechanical problem, Pitbull regrets that he has to cancel his performance scheduled in Parc Jean-Drapeau. You will be refunded automatically. Please calmly exit the site in the direction of Jean Drapeau station while following our staff’s instructions. Thank you.” As if the sky heard our disappointment, the clouds opened up and began pelting us with cold rain.
As I waited for the crowds to part so I could leave, I did what I do best and started talking to the people around me as I fired off a quick email to the Montreal Rocks team that there wouldn’t be any concert review or photos as Pitbull cancelled right as he was supposed to take the stage. People around me were upset about missing Pitbull but mostly angry that they had spent hundreds of dollars at the venue alone (not to mention travel and hotel costs). Between ponchos, parking passes, food, alcohol, and merchandise, it added up fast. I will say every member of staff there (also in ponchos and drenched with rain) was so helpful and apologetic, even though they didn’t have any control over the problem at hand.
Even though I waited a bit for the crowd to disperse, the Jean Drapeau metro was backed up by hundreds of people swarming the entrance. Since I’d worn sensible shoes, I decided to walk to Papineau from Jean Drapeau. It was the closest metro that wasn’t on the yellow line and was before Berri-UQAM for my poor aching knees. I expected to have a leg day at the concert from all the dancing, but I instead ended up with the leg day from hell as I crossed the Jacques Cartier Bridge with other disappointed fans and we watched all the bumper-to-bumper cars attempting to leave Île Sainte-Héléne from the sky.
I won’t spend too long talking about the massive spiders I saw spinning webs on the Jacques Cartier Bridge, but I did witness a truly magnificent and stormy sunset. The sunset and the people I met were the highlights of this chaotic and stressful night. This concert haunted me for the rest of the day and the rest of my week so far. After my multi-kilometre hike through our urban jungle, I went to a pretty niche burger place, and there were people there who were gossiping about Pitbull in the bathroom and loudly in the café. I went to Gare Centrale to pick up my roommate from the last train, and there were people there waiting for their friends who were yelling about Pitbull not showing up. We stopped at a 24-hour grocery store on the other side of Montréal, and someone was on the phone swearing that they got stuck waiting for the metro for over two hours and that she was starving. Even my manager at my day job was at the concert and disappointed. Everyone and their mom seemed to know where they or their friends were when Pitbull cancelled, as he was supposed to take the stage.
This is a devastating start to both hot girl summer and pride month. Apparently, Mr. Worldwide’s coverage doesn’t reach Montréal, but it did Rain Over Me and we didn’t have the Time Of Our Lives.
Review – Ashtyn Turner
Photos – Serena
