What started as a small meet-up now fills tables, brings strangers together, and I was immediately welcomed into the group.
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Around me, people were laughing and chatting with each other as they waited to order food. They greeted each other like old friends, shared quick hugs and made introductions as newcomers joined the line.
But for a brief minute or two, I was alone at a table on my phone. When I glanced up, there was Cameron MacIntosh, ringleader of the event, headed my way. He pulled up a chair and asked if I’d had a chance to look at the menu, then began a story about his grandmother’s career as a journalist in New Brunswick and how she inspired him to start the Tuesday Club.
MacIntosh, a 38-year-old civil servant, was the host of the 128th edition of the Tuesday Club of Ottawa, an informal social group he founded three years ago with about a dozen friends. It’s not designed for networking, nor is it a singles’ event. The concept is to take over a local independent restaurant on a night that’s otherwise pretty dead, especially in the cold, dark depths of an Ottawa winter.
He’s also noticed that finding friends in Ottawa can be a challenge for people who arrive in the nation’s capital as adults. He moved to the city in his teens, and as “a chatty Maritimer” made connections easily.
“One of the things about Ottawa is that a lot of people who live here come later in life. They don’t have deep roots,” he said. “ We provide an easy way to tap into the social life, support the community and connect with things in the community you might not know about. We do some of the work for you to make connections.”
Unlike the utilitarian interior of many Asian restaurants, Viet Fresh was airy and stylish, decorated with colourful parasols and a neon sign at one end reading “Feed Me Bahn Mi and Make Me Happy,” plus a techy herb-growing bubble of an indoor garden near the front door.
Several folks I met that night were federal government employees, including three engineers. One person liked to get out of the house after a shift spent working from home, while another enjoyed the opportunity to discover new restaurants with other people.
“Not much happens on a Tuesday, and this helps break up the week,” said my tablemate, Michel, who was not a public servant but worked in an office nearby and heard about the club from his sister. “It’s about making new relationships and growing your networking, not for career goals but just for going out and making new friends, and knowing about new activities in town.”
As I slurped the noodles of a delicious Tom Kha spicy seafood soup, one of the Thai options on the menu, MacIntosh sat down for another minute or two. “I’m like a hummingbird with attention deficit disorder at these events,” he joked, apologizing before flying off again to help the restaurant staff match orders to customers.
Eventually, the story of his grandmother emerged: Jackie Webster was a trail-blazing female journalist who started a weekly lunch club in Fredericton with political commentator Dalton Camp. Their intention was to cheer up colleagues who were laid off when the provincial government changed in 1987.
“It became a famous thing, and it’s still going,” MacIntosh said, recalling how Webster would get dressed for the occasion in a fur coat she bought at a Frenchys thrift store. She died six years ago at the age of 96.
Another big reason for starting Ottawa’s Tuesday Club was to counteract the hollowing-out effect of the 2022 trucker convoy on the downtown area, particularly in the Market area as office workers stayed home and social problems grew.
“In the convoy period, one thing I was surprised about was that it went on for so long,” MacIntosh said. “I thought somebody would take care of it, but it persisted for almost a month and it was traumatizing for the city. It left me with this feeling that if we, as citizens, don’t actually do something, I don’t think we can expect somebody else to take care of it.
“So I just wanted to take part in rebuilding my community in the wake of some difficult things that happened, like the pandemic and the convoy. I wanted to reclaim our city.”
Three years later, there are 2,000 people in the Facebook group, which is also known as TuesdayClub613, and a consistent demand for the Tuesday outings.
As you can imagine, the mid-week boost in business went over well with David Wen, the 29-year-old co-owner of the restaurant, and a real estate agent who pointed out that selling houses makes “a lot” more money than running a restaurant.
“This helps a lot because usually, Tuesday is one of our slowest days,” he said, emphasizing the beer and wing specials that happen each and every Tuesday. “For this event, we had to bring in more staff so we’re creating jobs, too.”
Also among the Tuesday Club members were several bloggers and photographers seeking content for their social media accounts. When their phones appeared, it was to capture some images to post, often promoting the restaurant at the same time. Otherwise, the unwritten rule was to keep your phone tucked away.
There’s no membership fee to join the Tuesday Club, and volunteers are welcome to assist MacIntosh. One of the volunteer duties is to staff the merch table, where you can buy swag emblazoned with the Tuesday Club mascot: A baby raccoon eating a Big Mac.
Volunteers also watch for moments when someone is alone on their phone at a table. That’s the cue to slide in and break the ice, as MacIntosh demonstrated when I snuck a look at my device.
I didn’t mind the intrusion. With his outgoing nature and remarkable ability to remember names, MacIntosh put everyone in the room at ease.
“I’m really proud we’re providing a space where people can just be friendly. We’re Canadians and we live in the capital of Canada, and so,” he reasoned, “we must be the nicest people in the world. I feel like that should be reflected.”