Montreal: hoo boy, zut alors

In no particular order:

1. Watched the preparation (long, drawn out) of a pig's foot being stuffed with foie gras and actually given to someone for dinner. For dinner and not for free dinner, either. Nope, that pied de cochon was farci'd au foie gras to the tune of $45. CANADIAN. (Still can't get my head around our exchange rate.) Bored? Go to http://www.restaurantaupieddecochon.ca and see if you can figure out what this vegetarian had for dinner. Hint: they were out of fish.

2. Studiously did not watch whilst husband chowed down on veal kidneys. Apparently, even people who eat veal kidneys won't eat pig kidneys. I think that's like the whole honour amongst thieves routine.

3. Was asked to dance for three disgusting old men in front of a Sexi-tique Erotique Fantastique Strip club. Three BILINGUAL disgusting old men.

4. Lebanon has no more French-speaking Christian dentists because they are all driving cabs in Montreal.

5. If you make a mistake while saying "Lac Castor" and say, for example, "Lac aux castors," then it's like asking for a lake with some beavers on top. This makes French-speaking husbands roar with laughter until they are pelted with dirt clods. Someone has captured the raw glamor of this lake on YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XWmcAAITwg. And yes I do know how to do that so that you can just click and go without cutting and pasting but I'm still a little peevish about the whole ragging I took for not being very great at French and I don't frankly care if you go take a look at the lake with some beavers on top or not. And it was cold, too, for the record.

6. It's difficult to find a public bathroom in Montreal, apart from inside the many thousand miles of underground shopping malls, but this does not appear to bother that many people.

7. They have never heard of Lunar Jim in Montreal children's stores. This is one of many things that recommends the city to some of us.

8. Met a prominent rock and roll photographer and her huggy entourage in a hotel bar. She did buy us beer, so thanks, and I hope her husband doesn't find out about the portly companion who announced loudly that he wanted to suck on her finger. From the hungry glint in his eye I would judge he was more than likely to chaw down on that finger and not just, you know, suck on it. He was fondling a plastic shaker of steak salt with his free hand.

9. French women are French women, whether they happen to actually live in France or not. How is it possible for them to wear felt plaid newsboy caps and golden boots and not look like ridiculous hookers but like glamorous French women? I practiced my French walking but looked like a Westerner whose girdle had slipped and not like a glamorous French woman in "casual separates."