Tenterhooks. Chapter 587.
I have been talking to the Peruvian. I am waiting for someone unexpected to show up. I have tilted the chair next to me in a sign of reservation. The Peruvian asked me who I am expecting. I said, “We shall see?”
It is not going to be Mrs. King. Mrs. King just called me. Mrs. King is having lunch at Lakeview Pearl. I am in no mood for moving. The Peruvian is enough of a kink in my train of thought. Delicious sushi will only put me further back on my structureless schedule. Such is New Orleans time.
The Peruvian and I just talked about my magical day at Chuck E. Cheese. Mrs. King never wants to go to Chuck E. Cheese. We could order off the grown-up menu. I am sure it is much better than the mediocre pepperoni pizza we had.
Yes, for another day, we are talking about Chuck E. Cheese on the West Bank. Like sands through the hourglass, these are the days of our lives.
I am not terribly familiar with Algiers. It is a pain in the neck for me to get there, and, once there, there is not really much for me to do. I suspect that if I lived on the West Bank I would find it more interesting, but, when I meet people who live on the West Bank, they do not love it.
They call it the Best Bank ironically.
Now, I am going to talk about whatever New Orleans-themed thing I am going to talking about. We seen an uptick in new subscribers recently, including the best kind—paid subscribers. I need to give them their money’s worth.