It’s a Saturday evening and my friend and I, not wanting to travel far in the snow-covered streets to find a cool, relaxed place to hang out for the night, head over to Grumpy’s located on Bishop just below the hustle and bustle of Saint Catherine.

It’s warm and welcoming as we walk through the door. The bartender, and sole employee on staff tonight, greets us with a smile and a hello that’s not too-overly-friendly (i.e. trying to milk us for tips). After ordering our first pints of the night from the tasty selection of beers on tap, we pick a table by the window. There aren’t many other options in the narrow venue. Directly across from the bar, a few tables have chairs spread out around them and there is some more space in the back, which isn’t being used on this particular night. Beside the lone window in the small, understated bar, there are only two tables. From there, we watch as other bar-goers wander the street, trying to settle on a spot for the night. Needless to say, we are happy to be where we are.

We strike up a conversation with a group of twenty-somethings sitting at the table next to ours. They are in town on business and stumbled upon this place while searching for a tourist-friendly bar. It’s my experience that most bars in this fine city of ours are very tourist friendly, however, these out-of-towners found this humble pub to be exceptionally so.

We’re just starting on our second round when a local singer/songwriter takes to a modest stage set up just to the left of the bar. It’s just him and his guitar and his folk songs. As he starts to sing, his voice reminds me of a somewhat grittier Jack Johnson, which suits me just fine. The tables across from the bar are filled with people who appear to be familiar with the artist, making the show even more entertaining by singing and dancing along to his original tunes.

Our new friends buy us a round of shots and decide to explore the city a little more. We bid them farewell and order another pint. It’s a little after 11:30 and the bar is starting to fill with more friendly faces. I can’t remember Grumpy’s being this busy since Saint Patrick’s Day, when it was packed with parade-goers enjoying the Irish music, alcohol and festivities — Irishmen and non-Irishmen alike. This evening, we find ourselves involved in interesting conversations with the other customers throughout the night; we even pull our table together with the next, allowing room for the new faces in our lives.

As the night comes to an end, and I look around the bar and see strangers becoming friends, I can’t help but think that this is exactly what Montreal is all about. Grumpy’s has definitely secured its spot in the heart of the city.