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KATRINA AND THE FRENCHMAN:
A JOURNAL FROM THE STREET

Purchase and Reviews | Why I wrote the story | Media | The song: Thursday Morning | The Ending

 

The ending.

 

March 16, 2011 - Chillin'

We woke up, had breakfast and tried to call our friend Louie. He wasn’t going to be home until we’d changed hotels, and I had a feeling that by leaving that side of town we were lessening the chances of seeing him.

I wanted to go to the French Market before we headed to the other side of the Quarter. It was one block away and I wanted to bring back souvenirs. We found magnets, t-shirts for the kids, stuff for my Mom and Aunt, and G found a hot sauce that he’d taste-tested and wanted to bring home. I saw what I thought was a sundress, and ended up being a two piece that I couldn’t pass up. We struck up a conversation with that shop owner, who told us he’s from Montreal, and even showed G a bank machine that had a lower withdrawal cost. We didn’t take long, we’re very efficient shoppers.

Back at the hotel I was able to put EVRYTHING into our little suitcases including winter coats and shoes, because I am the packing mastah.

But I left one thing behind. I pulled the washcloth out, the one that had been given to me by Vasonda on Convention Centre Boulevard. (Page 158) I put it on the towel rack, we grabbed our bags and walked out.

I am not used to hauling luggage up and down different levels of curbs and around crowds of snail-people. My shoulders were sore and my flip flops were tearing. G's foot was sore, and I promised him we'd take it easy the rest of the day once we got checked in. We stopped at Jackson Square for G to take pictures and I watched the fortune tellers and Tarot Card readers.

Tourists, musicians, fortune tellers and homeless all on a beautiful day.

My purposely ugly sunglasses.

We continued on until we arrived at the Holiday Inn. It was too early to check in, but they did let us store our luggage and I could use the bathroom to get changed out of my sweaty clothes into the only outfit I had not shoved in the suitcase. My new funky not-sundress I got at the Market that morning.

I contacted Louie and told him we were going to the Green Goddess for lunch. He said he’d try to meet up with us after dinner, but to say hi to (chef) Chris for him! I also contacted our chef friend Liam who was a friend from our University days! He would meet us after lunch.

The Gree Goddess on Exchange Place

There was a line up again, about 45 mins, we gave our name and got in line. There’s a difference between a place where you get seated and wait 45 mins, and a place where you wait 45 mins to get in. People know...

I had a sparkling wine and G had water while we waited at our outside table in partial shade from the planted trees. There was a slight breeze, and we had a relaxing, wonderful moment. This is what we had (copied from their website menu):

I had Sparkling wine (How can you pass up “dinosaur wine”??)
Clavelin, “Tête de Cuvée,” Cremant de Jura
Fueled by ancient limestone fields littered with fossils,
(yes, the Jura in Jurassic refers to this patch of France
where dinosaur bones were discovered) this dry
sparkling wine displays a long, clean taste $10 glass/$39 bottle

Louisiana “Bangers & Mash”
Marciante’s duck sausage with mashed Louisiana sweet potatoes,
finished with Steen’s cane syrup and an arugula side salad. $12

G had:
BBQ Pork & Corn Flapjack
Smoky pulled pork with bbq gravy & creamy
slaw on top of a corn-jalapeño pancake. $12

All of the food was amazing. I highly recommend the Green Goddess. Sadly, Chef Chris was not working the lunch shift and was only going to be there at night. Opportunity missed.

We went back to the hotel and got settled in just as we were able to meet up with Chef Liam. I’ve been trying REAL HARD not to use his old nickname, Poki, but it’s a hard habit to break. I gave him a copy of my book and we went across the street for coffee. We had a lot to catch up on, a lot to talk about. He told us that if he had known we were in the city, he would have driven us out before Katrina hit. I totally believe he would have, if we had known about each other being in the city, but it was really strange to hear six years later. He asked about our plans for the next day and told us about a block party uptown. We decided to meet up again, which was a special bonus for us all.

Back at the hotel, G said his foot was still sore, but he also had a headache and was feeling a bit sick. We were both scared all week of bringing the kids’ flu with us to NO. I told him to nap and see how he felt while I went for a swim.

Right on the corner of Royal by our hotel, Mr. B’s was all covered with huge lights outside and people crowding all four corners. They were shooting a movie! The name of the movie on the nametags I saw everyone wearing was "Cogan's Trade."

I talked G into going into a foot massage shop; there are a few on Canal St. It couldn't make his foot any worse, and I needed to buy new sandals to get through the rest of the week. I did a quick skip up a few streets but most of the shops were closed. Most of them also had fancy or designer shoes that I wasn't interested in anyway. I finally found a little "hippie" shop right beside the foot massage place. The entire back of the store was lined with "smoking" paraphanalia. It made me chuckle, so did the signs asking for "no photos please." There were some baskets full of rope sandals, something I'd never seen before. A girl beside me swore by them, how comfortable they are, very durable and easy to care for... I was sold. The guy at the counter said that if a rope ever broke I could use a lighter to melt it back together. HA! I asked him to throw my old pair out behind the desk. They felt great right away!

G walked in just as I was paying up. As we headed back around the corner for dinner he handed me his wedding ring. "I'm going to have to marry that Chinese man who massaged my feet." Apparently it was almost orgasmic, and yes, his feet felt a little better, too.

We went to the Checkered Parrot attached to the hotel, and G was still limping a bit to get that far. He didn't look very good, wasn't sure if he could eat but would try. I asked if he could call Louie for me, it was getting later than I expected (I wanted G to sleep as long as he could before dinner). Plus, with my new hearing aids it was really hard for me to cut out the music and background noise of the place, so I asked G to call and see if we could get together. He said yes to everything and when I found out that Louie was on foot as well and asked to meet us halfway, I had to cancel. I HATED doing it but there was no way G could make it that far. I was really upset.

G was too sick to eat his chicken wings. I wasn’t enjoying my jambalaya. (The jambalaya I made at home the week before we left was better anyway.) By the time we went back to the room I was putting cold cloths on G’s head and I just KNEW he was suffering from heat exhaustion. He couldn’t stay warm but was sweating, he was nauseous, had on and off headaches, and he was really tired. Tums helped his stomach a bit and we crashed out.

The next day...

 


 

 

 

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