The Oldest Fire Hydrant in New Orleans.

Chapter 661.

Leather Tuscadero and I are sharing garlic-stuffed olives like figures out of New Orleans mythology. It never hurts to dream big. In a New Orleans state of mind we live the life of pashas. If only we were reclining on the sofas in the back room.

I rarely visit the back room. I have hygienic concerns about the upholstery back there. I think the light…