C’est vendredi après-midi…time for Schwartz’s. The jazz festival started yesterday. The line is half a block long. The sun is hot. The noise from the construction is overwhelming. I stood in line with a couple from Switzerland. It will be their first time to eat Schwartz’s smoked meat before they fly home to Geneva tomorrow.
Finally after a 40 minute wait, I got in. Since it was so crowded, I had to talk the waiter into giving me a place at a table. I sat with three lovely people from Victoriaville, Québec. They were proud of their city but enjoy a foray into the big city of Montreal from time to time.
I was able to talk with Alex again about possible publication of his Schwartz Poetry. If you are connected in the local publication scene, let me know. I would love to see some of his 900 poems published!