It was all a dream!!!!
I'm on the corner of St. Charles and Baltimore. I had just eaten crab cakes and grilled mahi mahi, so my belly's tight and full... and I am buzzing, slightly, from the Heineken, the bustle around me, and the fact that every corner I turn, there is someone who looks exactly like me.... It is BEAUTIFUL....
Shit eating grin, looking like a country assed second cousin twice removed. ( I really don't look country, just i know i look like a tourist cuz everything is so new to me..Now the guy on Fox news this morning is another story... 2 sets of stripes in this suit that looks like it's been purchased from Suit City by Red Bird in Dallas)) I flag a cab, "8 E. Preston, please." I am hyped, as I am going to get a fix of some poetry, a little jazz, and some slow grain (alcohol). The cab driver gives me the run around to earn an extra buck or two, I'm cool. I know the route and I know what he's doing so I just talk to him a bit, letting him know that I know he took the wrong turn.
I get to the spot.. The cabbie and I, he slightly annoyed as he has another call, look for the Cafe.... There is no Yours, Mine, Ours Cafe anyfrickinwhere in sight. He let's me off, insisting, operatative word, insisting, that this is the place. After surveying the area, scanning for bus stops and foot traffic, I reluctantly pay the $9.00, get out of the cab and enter what's suppose to be the Cafe. Instead, I find a smoky local bar, the patrons look cool, but it's not the poetry spot I was feigning for. I ask the waitress if this was the place, she stated....
"This bar has changed names a few times. There hasn't been any poetry here for at least a year. I've been here that long. Funny, there was another woman here earlier looking for poetry. She said she got if off the internet. She had the same look on her face as you have. She wasn't too happy either."walk two or three blocks to another street, and guess what comes my way? The number 11 (my favorite number) and it appears to be heading in the direction I need to go. I flag it and hop on. It drops me off one block from my hotel. $1.60. Now, I'm not cheap, but it has cost me $10.60 to go I know only about 2 miles in 20 minutes. (Who's the cheap whore, I ask? Then laugh, cuz I know it's me, I got fucked for $10.60.)
Maybe I really needed to stay in the hotel and sleep.
I'm groggy from the allergy medicine and nasally from the hotel ac...
Poetry? Well, there's always tonight.......
Shit eating grin, looking like a country assed second cousin twice removed. ( I really don't look country, just i know i look like a tourist cuz everything is so new to me..Now the guy on Fox news this morning is another story... 2 sets of stripes in this suit that looks like it's been purchased from Suit City by Red Bird in Dallas)) I flag a cab, "8 E. Preston, please." I am hyped, as I am going to get a fix of some poetry, a little jazz, and some slow grain (alcohol). The cab driver gives me the run around to earn an extra buck or two, I'm cool. I know the route and I know what he's doing so I just talk to him a bit, letting him know that I know he took the wrong turn.
I get to the spot.. The cabbie and I, he slightly annoyed as he has another call, look for the Cafe.... There is no Yours, Mine, Ours Cafe anyfrickinwhere in sight. He let's me off, insisting, operatative word, insisting, that this is the place. After surveying the area, scanning for bus stops and foot traffic, I reluctantly pay the $9.00, get out of the cab and enter what's suppose to be the Cafe. Instead, I find a smoky local bar, the patrons look cool, but it's not the poetry spot I was feigning for. I ask the waitress if this was the place, she stated....
"This bar has changed names a few times. There hasn't been any poetry here for at least a year. I've been here that long. Funny, there was another woman here earlier looking for poetry. She said she got if off the internet. She had the same look on her face as you have. She wasn't too happy either."walk two or three blocks to another street, and guess what comes my way? The number 11 (my favorite number) and it appears to be heading in the direction I need to go. I flag it and hop on. It drops me off one block from my hotel. $1.60. Now, I'm not cheap, but it has cost me $10.60 to go I know only about 2 miles in 20 minutes. (Who's the cheap whore, I ask? Then laugh, cuz I know it's me, I got fucked for $10.60.)
Maybe I really needed to stay in the hotel and sleep.
I'm groggy from the allergy medicine and nasally from the hotel ac...
Poetry? Well, there's always tonight.......