Subway...err...Metro Couture

(NOTE: Updated the earlier "Shamrock Shake" entry via the comments.)



By the ridiculous number of times I've referenced "Montreal" in previous blog entries, no doubt my not-so-secret love affair with that fine, fine city is now widely known. I could go on for hours ad nauseum (and I have - to the eye rolling of many a friend), chanter-ing its praises.

Of course, this wasn't always so. It's really been one of those cases of "you don't know what you got till it's gone". And well...I live in Toronto now...enough said.

So this entry unabashedly has "Montreal" written all over it. Well, at least a map of its metro system. Yes, I said "metro" - NOT subway. Yes, I'm one of THOSE snobs. The type that has a constant hang-up about people calling Montreal's underground transportation the "subway". I will politely (or not so politely - depending how belligerent a mood I'm in) correct you. I'm also one of THOSE who will travel to another city that has an underground transportation system and mistakenly (*snicker*) call it the "metro" even if they call it the subway there.

For a good year and change after moving to Toronto, I would still find myself calling Toronto's subway system "the metro". Suck on it, T-dot.

Okay, enough evilness. Back on track (so to speak).

I truly do love riding the underground rails of every city I visit which has such a transit system. Be it Montreal, Toronto, Boston, D.C., NYC....*memory flash*...uhh, oh right, the NYC subway. I actually have a somewhat disturbing story about my first experience on the NYC subway (some of you may've actually even been there)...

Back in '97, when I was still living in Montreal, a few friends from work along with my brother and I took a long weekend trip down to New York. One of our adventures that weekend took us from Canal Street towards uptown Manhattan on the subway. The 5 or 6 of us happened to get a subway car all to ourselves. And I, as usual, was annoying my travel mates with my camera - taking uninvited snapshots of them as they'd put up their hands to my lens, trying to block me from stealing their souls.

Being in my belligerent mode, I persisted. And since no one was letting me get in their face and take nice close-up shots of them, I decided to back up away from the group and get a nice wide picture instead. So I peered through the viewfinder and shuffled backwards to fit everyone in. But I wanted to frame it nicely too, so I had to back up a little more to get some of the background in the shot. Then I decided I'd have to back up even further, right into the corner of the subway car to get the most awesome angle, and so I did.

*squish!*

What the fuck was that?! My friends looked over at me as I looked down at my feet. My shoe was slipping in something. OH MY GOD. I jumped out of the corner, lunging towards my friends, who correspondingly jumped back away from me. I frantically started wiping the sole of my shoe along the floor vigorously...leaving streaks of what can only be described as fecal graffiti on the subway floor. My friends and bro were now cackling at my horrid dilemma. They moved further away from me as the stench worked its way deeper into the subway car.

(The actual resulting photo)

I was in an utter panic. I prayed that it was at least the "business" of some pet animal -- perhaps a friendly seeing-eye dog who innocently let nature's call get the better of him. Moreover, I absolutely refused to allow myself to believe it was more likely to have been of the human variety. PLEASE GOD NO.

Regardless, for the rest of that evening, no matter how much I scraped the sole of my shoe on pavement or grass or in water puddles, the smell clung to me like dollar store perfume on a cheap hooker (okay, I probably heard that line in some movie before). But I was shunned by my friends. Nobody wanted to ride in the car with me. I was the dung-shoed pariah for the rest of that trip.

Okay, back on track...again.

So what better way to celebrate one's visit to a big city than a souvenir t-shirt! But forget those "I [Heart] So-and-So" shirts and those "My uncle went to So-and-So and all I got was this lousy t-shirt" shirts. Why not get something that really shows off a city's mighty indicator of urban sprawl and industrialization: a t-shirt with the map of the city's metro/subway on it! Booyah!


Truth is, I don't even know if all qualifying city's have such a souvenir t-shirt available for purchase. All I know is I was able to pick up one of these "Montreal Metro" t-shirts in touristy Old Montreal back in the late-90's. There's certainly no shortage of souvenir t-shirt shops in that area, and at least a couple of them had t-shirts that featured the metro system map. I'm so proud of mine.

And truthfully I'm not one for novelty t-shirts at all. Hate them for the most part. Especially the faux-witty, ironic kind. But this one is all class, baby! It's the frickin' metro map!

I'll wear mine on set or just out in the streets (as long as I'm not actually in Montreal...that's tacky). It sometimes even brings a smile to other people's faces who recognize what the map on my chest is all about. It's almost like a secret club: no words needed...just a slight, knowing nod from the person who notices my t-shirt; followed by a slight, agreeing nod in return from me. It's all cool and the gang.


Dent in your pay cheque:
my memory's a bit rusty, but I'm guessing around $8-$10

Ideal for:
tourists with discriminating souvenir tastes; cultured Montreal expats; nieces and nephews deserving of fashionable coolness; those who want to be part of the hush-hush, ultra-hip "I'm down with Montreal too" club

Look for it at:
select souvenir t-shirt shops in the Old Montreal district