
Walking down Polk Street and taking a left onto Sutter, I passed the entrance to one of the many bars just as a rather rotund fellow came stumbling out. He said something to me, rather excitedly but I had ear phones on and couldn’t hear him. Again, we do that here so random strangers typically don’t try to talk to us, but he was insistent. I took out an ear-bud and he grinned, red-faced and sweaty…
“Is that a who-dat sweatshirt?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
“And your hat, Giants. Who-dat and the Giants!”
I laughed, “Uh-huh.”
“Man, that was a great year! Super Bowl and the Giants win their first series! I’m from New Orleans, born and raised. You made my night!”
He stuck out his hand and I shook it, saying, “Used to live at the corner of St. Ann and Royal.”
“St. Ann and Royal!” He yelled, looking up at the night-sky, “Christ I miss home!”
And then we parted ways and I continued up Nob Hill to meet a friend for drinks. As I’ve written before, it’s a common occurrence round these parts. All it takes is one simple symbol in this chilly city to find a warm exchange…
The fleur-de-lis.
Heard dat, and see you all real soon…
Have a nice day.
I enjoyed hanging out with you in the Tenderloin last January, and will certainly buy you and your sweatshirt a beer when you make it back to New Orleans.
Agreed, it was fun talking…enjoyed. Coming back to New Orleans to visit around September and planning to move back May or June next year…Take you up on that beer in the Fall, most definitely.
– Drake