Bewitched

 

New Orleans is a fun place. I was at the coffee shop with an espresso when the barista asked if I drank Jameson. He had mispoured, and I was the beneficiary of a double shot for lunch. It made my walk to the hardware store more entertaining. I stopped in a vampire themed gift shop, and got an invite to a speakeasy style bar at the back of Fritzels. “Tell the doorman the vampire sent me.” Could be interesting.

I took a short walk to an antique shop on St. Claude, but they were closed. I worked on the tables, cleaning and polishing. The coffee table is better than hoped for, and the end tables are worse. I ordered some window blinds.

Courtney invited me to walk the Quarter with her, and I met her at the Chart Room with some of her friends. They drag furniture out on to the sidewalk and have a porch party. Tracy, a 50ish black man “on a break” from work that turned into “I don’t think I’ll make it back”, was holding court, smoking a big cigar and drinking cognac. Tracy opined that I looked like I was from here, but blew it as soon as I opened my mouth. Courtney then took me over to Mike’s Cajun Pub, a hole in the wall across Canal near the Roosevelt Hotel. Too much liquor on an empty stomach, and wobbled my way home via Killer Po-boys, the Erin Rose, and Buffa’s. I did have a roast beef po-boy at Killer’s but was too drunk to appreciate it.

Day 29

I think I need to revise my account of yesterday’s events. I’m fairly confident I was bewitched or enchanted by the coven next door. I’m thinking that the friendly conversation was just a clever ruse to fill me full of some kind of potion, that was clearly tequila flavored but the shot glass never seemed to be empty. After a few hours, I was rendered unable to walk steadily and was spirited away from the neighborhood bar to my couch. Occult stuff happens in the old city.

In any case, I had a mellow day. I did take the camera for a walk in the late afternoon, trying to capture the low level light on some of the buildings in the French Quarter. I am not confident I got a good shot, but I sure won’t if I don’t shoot. I didn’t figure out a way to export my photos from my camera to Lightroom on the IPad for editing before I left, so I will do the processing when I get back to my computer. It makes me a little nervous to leave the images on a card for so long, but it will let me be more critical after a couple of weeks away from the subject.

I met a neighborhood character named Gino who shoots black and white film with a Leica, and concentrates on street art photography of people. He processes his own film, and then scans it to digital for sale. He is in a whole other league as an artist and storyteller despite a prodigious level of alcohol consumption. I have not even been bold enough to shoot some of the street scenes yet.

It is fun to be in an international city. I was stopped on the street and asked directions, first in French and then in Spanish. Luckily my traveler Spanish was good enough to get the women headed in the right direction(and I knew!).

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