While studying the shapes and sizes on the rack,
on a rare visit to a fashion store in Old Strathcona, Edmonton,
and wondering if I was the type of man who could wear a fedora regularly
or only this once for an upcoming event,
a woman stepped out of the dressing room.
She was wearing a blouse.
The proprietor fiddled with it,
pulling on the blouse here and there,
trying to flatten it out in places.
It’s poofy, she said.
It’s sticking out like a Frontenac!
What? Sticking out like a Frontenac?
I had never heard such an analogy.
I searched my memory banks
and my only reference to the word Frontenac
was from my visit to Le Château Frontenac in old Québec.
I was curious.
When the proprietor had a free moment,
I asked her about it.
Frontenac? Like the Château Frontenac?
Yes, she said.
Have you never noticed how it juts out over the St. Lawrence River?
I admitted that I had not.
Now, I am standing on the south side of the St. Lawrence River,
staring across at Le Château Frontenac.
I don’t really see how it’s jutting out,
but I imagine it is so.
Would it be more prominent
if I looked at it from a different angle?
At the parking lot,
a large pickup truck has taken up the space
meant for a small car.
I turn to a random tourist and point at the truck.
It’s sticking out like a Frontenac!