First, a few characters we did not get a chance to meet:
Le Tooth was purchased from a small store in Old Montreal from a shopkeeper who was wildly attached to her puppets. While Scott, John and I tried on the puppets and gave them life with our voices, she stood by nervously supervising. When any of us would say something mean, such as when I made Le Tooth say, “I CAN’T DO SIMPLE MAAAATH,” the shopkeeper would swoop in and pet Le Tooth on the head saying, “Oh, it’s ok! You’re smart!” And when John put on the dragon puppet and Scott said, “Look out! It’s the Angry Dragon!” and persisted in asking John, “John, why does Angry Dragon sound so familiar? I know I’ve heard it somewhere before,” and John said, “I don’t know, but it sounds gross,” the shopkeeper jumped in to say, quite erroneously to her oblivion, “Oh, you’re not gross flaming dragon!”
Le Tooth ended up coming with us, and as we walked out saying, “Someone needs to tell that girl that these puppets have no soul,” I turned back to see a single tear falling down her cheek.
“The women watching soccer with us”
The women off to the side in the photo, six women ranging from upper 20’s to mid 30’s, sat at the table adjacent to ours on a crowded balcony on Crescent Street watching the France – Brazil match. They clearly knew little about the sport and as John was explaining some rules to us, one of them turned to him and said, “Someone here really knows his soccer,” to which Scott replied, “Well the rules don’t really matter so much, what matters is that everyone has fun.” They didn’t laugh, which I attribute to their age.
“Boy at bar”
A boy at the bar.
Anne Marie was our waitress at a restaurant called L’Evidence in the French section of Montreal where we went to “have a real French meal,” i.e. no be able to read the menu. The event started out awful as we sat down at a patio table, hungry and fighting off the strong gusts of wind. After 45 minutes of nothing being put on the table despite our ordering, we were ready to jump ship. Luckily we didn’t, because after the first bottle of wine arrived we decided to move inside, conveniently into a separate back room in which no one else was seated. That was around 8:00. By 11:30 we had Anne Marie, the waitress we once despised for slow service, seated at our table drinking wine with us while we had an “accent” contest (silly Americans!) We all fell in love with Anne Marie.
As a sad epilogue, we made tentative plans to hang out with Anne Marie the following night, our last night in Montreal, after she finished working. We ended up being exhausted and in bed by midnight, and when we woke the next morning there was a voice mail from her that said:
(with thick French accent)
“Hello. This is Anne Marie. I am sad you did not come to the restaurant for dinner tonight. I was hoping we would go out, together. I will not ask you to call me back. I will go home to bed. Maybe we can see one another the next time you come to Montreal or in New York. Goodbye.”
It was as sad as you think it was. While listening to it, I pictured in my mind Anne Marie in her cutest outfit, all done up with make-up, waiting tables at spinning around every time the door to the restaurant opened, and slowly turning back upon seeing that it wasn’t us.
But it was still the most fun night we had in Montreal. Even including the final vignette:
An Indecent Proposal
Scene: Scott and The Girlfriend are alone at the table. Scott spies this as his chance to move in. There is sensuality in the air.