Montreal is Full of Pervs

Montreal is a perv place, REALLY!!!

I lived in Montreal for 15 years, and I swear I ran into more pervs in that place than anywhere else.

My last blog was about a would-be roommate, who declared his fondness for parading around stark-naked. YUCK!!! Believe me, this guy was NO Adonis! And I had said NOTHING to inspire such a comment. OK, he was NOT from Montreal, but Pennsylvania via Arizona and Florida (yes, it only occurred to me AFTER I hustled him out of my apartment to wonder what all THAT was about).

However, I posted my blog with a label including "nudists" just for the heck of it. And sure enough, the FIRST person doing a "nudists" search was from Montreal.

OK, maybe being a nudist in itself is not a big deal. Perhaps nudists need to develop nude-dar, like gay men have gay-dar?

But here is a small sampling of the insanity I experienced in Montreal:

A guy careening down the street, middle of a busy day, driving his bashed up car while bashing himself up with the other hand at the same time. I am NOT kidding!!!

A guy walking down the street in Joncquière, Quebec (OK not Montreal, but still Quebec), at about 11 p.m., wearing a tee shirt and sheer pantyhose and nothing else, i.e. NO underwear. And there was me, not wearing my glasses, because we were heading out to the clubs, so I couldn't really make out what the heck kind of outfit he was wearing until he was about 10 feet away. At that point I only had time to yell to my friend, who was absorbed in a story she was recounting. He grabbed her breast and then knocked her down. I screamed my head off and he ran away. And get this, we ran into him AGAIN, a couple weeks later. This time he tried to grab me, but I saw it coming and knocked his arm away from me, again screaming at him. Jesus!

A man who approached a friend of mine, while she was taking a nice walk on Mount Royal, on the main WIDE road in the middle of a warm sunny day. The man was quickly undoing his belt and yanking his pants down as he approached. My friend panicked, looking around for an escape. As if by some miracle, an older man rounded the curve of the path ahead. My friend ran up and asked if he would walk her back down the path. He was very kind, and agreed. The perv ran off, realizing that whatever he had in mind would not be easily achieved that particular day.

I was sitting with a friend on our front stairs one warm summer evening, around 1 a.m. We had been out dancing at Izaza, the local dive bar, and were chatting about the various shenanigans of Izaza clientele (always exciting, I assure you). A man with a cap meandered down the street. He glanced up at us and kept walking. We kept talking. A few minutes later, the man returned, and this time, he made a direct bee-line for the stairway, unzipping his pants as he ran towards us. We ran in the house and got my friend's husband. As Pierre pulled on his robe, I ran to the balcony door to see where the man might be. I looked through the glass, and Jesus again! He was RIGHT THERE!!! He had the situation "in hand" and was madly heading to mayday when Pierre arrived. The guy zipped up his pants and ran away. Fortunately, we never saw him again.

I really cannot COUNT the number of times I encountered "whoops" experiences on the bus and metro but it was almost a daily occurrence. I finally got the gumption to just yell out, "Would you PLEASE remove your GROIN from my shoulder?!!??" That usually worked.

Oh there are many many other stories, but you get the idea. Montreal is a really FUN place to party, to experience a little joie de vivre, to eat GREAT food, listen to some good music, practice your French, but WATCH OUT for the pervs!

(Oh, and in case you are thinking, "Well just call the cops"--uh, maybe not. I finally DID report one incident to the police. But all the cop wanted was the sleazy details over and over again, and over and over again...You get the idea. Yet another perv!)