That February, it was unusually cold in Paris, with freezing temperatures much like those we’ve been experiencing here recently, but thankfully without the snow to accompany them. It wasn’t the best time to take Alison on her first visit to the city. It was going to be too cold to linger outside for any length of time. But I knew the Metro system like the back of myhand, so we purchased a couple of carnets and used the Metro to travel across the city to the main attractions, popping up for a short while at each location and then retreating back down into the warmth of the underground. One evening, we were on the train to Blanche Metro station in Montmartre. With Alison dressed in her finery and me in my tux, bowtie and long Italian overcoat, looking like a Mafia don, we felt conspicuous among the other passengers, most of whom were workers making their way home. When we left the train, we headed for the stairs that would take us up to the hookers and sex shops of Pigalle and onwards to the Moulin Rouge. As we walked along the platform, I noticed that all the seats on our right were occupied by what I guessed were homeless men seeking shelter from the cold. Suddenly, one of the men stood up, swayed, fixed his eyes on a still open door of the train we had just left, and then charged headlong towards the door. Clearly very drunk, he stumbled and fell flat on his face before he could reach the door, his head almost lodged in the gap between the train and the platform. He was now in danger of being seriously injured when the train moved off, but none of the passengers inside nor any of those on the platform seemed interested. I rushed over to help the drunk. I was struggling to move his deadweight when another man came to help. Together, the stranger and I lifted him up by the arms and dragged him back to the seat he had vacated. He was moaning softly and his forehead was bloodied, but otherwise he seemed to have survived the fall. “Merci beaucoup,” I said to the stranger. The stranger nodded. He was Moroccan, a foreigner like us.