Morning Call. Chapter 638.
I was sitting there, minding my own business, when, a stranger walked up and sat down next to me. I never understand why people want to sit next to me when there is a whole empty bar to choose from.
This lady ordered something or other, she took forever to read the menu, which was fine with me. I was busy reading the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal.
She ordered a drink after a lot of hemming and hawing, and, then, she continued to study the menu. “I’m starving,” this stranger told Emily, the senior bartender.
After her drink arrived, this stranger looked me dead in the eye and she said, “A penny for your thoughts.”
I said, “I am thinking about a monkey fighting a dog to the death in 1823. What are you thinking about?”
She said, “I am thinking about going to Morning Call for a café au lait and beignets.”
És with accent marks have been cropping up all over New Orleans during this year’s French Quarter Festival. It is that time of the year.
Have you ever met a botanist?
I was talking to this lady, when a person with feminine, feline features walked past us to go to the men’s room. That person did a double-take.
Then, the person, who shall remain nameless, paused to linger his or her gaze. He or she was not looking at my seated backside. Can you draw a dotted line?
“That weirdo was really checking you out, lady,” Emily said after she had taken our photo.
“I attract weirdos,” the lady said. “Attracting weirdos is the story of my life. I will bet you ten dollars the next person I meet is a weirdo.
I am not betting on those odds. It is easy to see the odds are against me.
“Is Morning Call close enough to walk to from here?” the lady asked.
“It would be quicker to hitch a ride on a passing camel. Would you like me to take you on the Vespa?” I offered.
Then, things got interesting. More to follow in a moment…