Search Engine Optimization.

If you knew me in person instead of on the page, you would be surprised to learn that I always appreciate the little social niceties that make up any given day. Really. On the inside, I am incredibly content. I live in New Orleans, in the best of all possible worlds. Being prickly and aloof is just my nature, my second skin, like a three piece suit. My life in New Orleans is particularly unsuited for search engine optimization.

I am not telling you a secret. I am making an obvious observation.

You may not have noticed but I have recently been writing with search engine optimization in mind. This is a business. Writing is a cash-poor profession, and, what is an artist without an audience? It takes two to tango.

It is nice to see you.

I do not want to think about SEO today. I find it boring. I already have to start writing regular articles about life in New Orleans for tourists.

I infinitely prefer to talk about life in New Orleans on a granular level that nobody cares about. Welcome to my world. This is the record of the time.

So, these three younger people were sitting across from me. I preferred to pay them no mind. Greystoke talked to them. Then, Greystoke interrupted me.

“I don’t want to bother you Mr. King, but you know more about these things than I do. Where is a good butcher?”

This was better than asking if I have ever had a birthday.

I recommended Chris’ Specialty Meats on Harrison Avenue. Then, I took a look at these three and I recommended Piece of Meat on Bienville Street. I said, “It is not for me but you look like the kind of people who would prefer Piece of Meat.”

They yukked it up about how much they would like a piece of meat. I told you already that they looked like the kind of people who would prefer Piece of Meat over Chris’ Specialty Meats.

I went back to composing the Orleaniad. You read that correctly.

When these young people left, they thanked me for the recommendation. Everyone parted on pleasant terms, a fond farewell, a moment in a Hallmark movie set in New Orleans.

A new place is opening up across the street. I am not going to darken its door.

Greystoke cannot pronounce Worcestershire correctly, no matter how hard he tries.

Someone called me on the telephone. When Greystoke handed it to me, it turned out to be a lady who wanted to ask me awkward questions. She said she had read about me on the internet that I am a witch, and, is that true? I said, no. An awkward pause followed. I said, “I dunno what you are talking about, lady.” She said, “Never mind,” and, then, she hung up.

I wish I was making this up. I am not. When I handed the phone back to Greystoke, I commented, “Be careful what you wish for.”

Such are the perils of search engine optimization.

And, at this point, I am going to put up the paywall and read the Wall Street Journal before I continue. More things need to happen. Acropolis on Freret always closes at 2:00PM on the days they are open, Tues-Sat.