Okay maybe I'm too American (I have been accused of this repeatedly now) but the drive between Montreal and Boston is five hours. Probably six on a bad day. In the grand scheme of long distance relationships, especially for people who are used to traveling, that's small potatoes. Meet in the middle and that's a cool two and a half hours. You cannot convince me they never did this. You're telling me Mr. Real Estate Youtube Rabbit Hole never stayed up until one in the morning looking at cabins in Vermont? You're telling me Ilya didn't play around on Google Maps until he found a Park 'N Go off I89 with sufficiently dim lighting and text the address to Shane, no context given aside from maybe Come murder me? You're telling me that Shane Hollander never shared his location with Ilya, got in his car and prayed that customs wasn't busy. Ilya waited two years to fuck Shane, begged him for it the whole time, and you expect me to believe that a halfway bootycall never even OCCURED to him? That's a COMMUTE. That's a DINNER DATE. Ilya drove his prettiest and fastest car to Buttfuck Vermont to give the town its name and then he ate Cracker Barrel pancakes in the passenger's seat of Shane's dumb Land Rover while Shane watched. Round two before they went home. All before the sun came up. It HAPPENED.
In case anyone needs help visualizing the parking area in Randolph, Vermont where internationally famous hockey players Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander definitely did not fuck in the back seat of Shane's Land Rover on a spring night in 2016.
