On Thursday, I went to see a one-woman play at the Fringe festival. It was pretty good, you know, Fringe-y, but not too Fringe-y. Lots of talk about breasts and orgasms and growing old(er). I was entertained. And glad that I never had to go through the torture of wearing girdles or corsets every day. Funny too, because here in Montreal in the summer everyone seems to wear *as little as possible* in public. There is no room for supportive underwear if any underwear at all.

So, after the play I went for tea with a friend and then walked down St. Laurent and watched people and things. Hopped on the metro home and this little old Chinese man sat down next to me. He pulled out a bus transfer and started tearing and folding it. Two stops later he hands it to me. He's turned it into a horse. He smiles and says nothing, just walks the horse over to me through the air, his hand moving from side to side in a happy horse way. I say "merci" and I say "thank you". Of course, I smile too. He pulls out another transfer and makes another horse, which he put on the floor of the metro and blows at to make it move. He smiles, I smile. No one else seems to really be watching. By this time I'm one stop away from where I have to get off, so I make that move that people make when they need to get off at the next stop: sort of a slow lifting of self from seat and towards the nearest open handhold. The old man pulls out a lotto ticket and begins folding it. Right before the metro stops he hands his latest to me - it turns out to be a boat. I smile and put the horse in it. He smiles. I say "goodbye" and "au revoir" and step off the train as he pulls another transfer from his back pocket.