Sweet Potatoes. Chapter 534.
Time moves in an elliptical orbit in New Orleans.
My style is my signature. I just bumped into the Rotarian. The Rotarian could use a shave and a haircut. “You are the epitome of style, Mr. King,” the Rotarian said. I was wearing a tricornes hat, the hat that won the Battle of Lexington and Concord.
“Right back at you,” I replied. I asked the Rotarian to come see me when he is done with lunch. I have business to discuss.
Time moves in an elliptical orbit in New Orleans. I take my hat off for one thing, and for one thing only, whether I am requested to leave it on or not. R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
Mid-City bound and down, loaded up and scooting, I am doing what some people say cannot be done. I have a short way to go and a long time to get there. My! Oh my! Look at that Rhinestone Dandy go. Two wheels set one free.
If there is no traffic at a red light, and there are no police around, run the light. It stops feeling wrong after you have done it more than once. It will save you time. Trust me.
Have you never only slowed down for a stop sign when there was no reason to stop? Tell me the difference.
Who is smarter, you or an automatic machine that has no idea what is going on around it? I will put good money on you.
I live off HUMINT.
I know people who cannot swim a stroke but they still know every dive in New Orleans. This is New Orleans. You will never see the water that surrounds us unless you go looking for it.
HUMINT is military and spy talk for human intelligence. I am not saying that I live off human intelligence because I am human or because I am intelligent. I am saying it because I plan my next moves based on what people tell me about what they know.
What people know is called intelligence.
I think I am going to pull the curtain. I wish everyone who has read thus far a happy Thanksgiving. We have plenty to be thankful for. I wish you were here. I bet you do, too.