Counterfeit Money.

I thought I had a tip for a new hot dog place but that lead turned out to be a damp squib. Today is a typical New Orleans day, sitting around, chitchatting, catching up, not gossiping so much as sharing news, chewing the fat, passing the time. You know that after this morning I am on the trail of this counterfeit money in New Orleans.

There is some kind of fantasy golf league sitting behind me. They are drafting their golfers. None of this makes any sense to me so I am tuning it out. Boddington told me I would be unhappy when they started because they are loud.

How could I be unhappy? Home is where the heart is.

I was taking some photos of the inside of my house this morning. I had my reasons.

I asked Boddington when was the last time she saw counterfeit money in New Orleans. I will tell you what she told me. As a bartender extraordinaire, Boddington has seen her share of bad behavior.