One’s conscience can be a meddlesome companion.
I rarely offer unsolicited advice, but, today, I think I will. It is unwise to make an enemy of someone who has all the time in the world. If you have been following along for months, you know what I am talking about.
One’s conscience can be a meddlesome companion.
Let us take a look at this moment’s line-up to my right, how the cards have been shuffled.
The wine guys have a table propped next to the bar at the far end. They are no bother. Then, there is Grizzly Adams, Dan Haggerty. I had not realized he was here, he is quiet. Then there is a lady I cannot really see. Then, there is the guy who wanted to conversate with me. Then, there is the nerd. I do not call the nerd a nerd, Boggington does. He looks like a schlub to me.
Wait, a pretentious guy with Ted Danson hair, wearing a kilt and eyeglasses to die for, is reading over my shoulder. Never mind, he just read this and stopped. I have been watching his reflection in my screen.
Then, a very nice widow with a beautiful voice and both of her eyes in the places one would expect them to be, she just sat down next to me. What fun!
There was a crow perched on the fence surrounding the St. Anne Shrine in St. Anne Square, on Ursulines Avenue, between North Galvez and North Johnson Streets. I took it as an omen. There was nothing spooky about it. It was just a crow around the corner from my house. They are like realtors. Crows are everywhere in this part of New Orleans.
After the crow sighting, other things happened. They were things that were mysterious in the most delightful New Orleans ways. I will tell you about it after the paywall.