A Rendez-Vous at the Rendon Inn.

A got a text from Margarette early this afternoon.  "Meet me at Rendon Inn," it read.

You never know what you'll find when you turn a corner in New Orleans.

I texted back, "I'll be there at 2:00PM."  It's important to specify AM and PM when you live in New Orleans.  We live in a 24-hour city.  

There is always something happening, somewhere, here.  It is usually something good.

At 2:00, I was at Rendon Inn.  It is very nice in there.  It is remarkably clean in there, too.  A very nice layout for a bar with a kitchen.  I think two tables have been there since opening day.

There is a large patio outside at the Rendon Inn, accessible through an open door.  The door was open because today was in the low eighties and sunny.  What a March!

When Margarette showed up, she ordered a bowl of gumbo with potato salad for an extra three dollars.  When the bowl arrived it had a generous scoop of potato salad in the middle of the gumbo.  

Potato salad in soup?!?  That's the Cajun way.  The Creole way is with rice.  Some people like it one way and some people like it the other way.  I don't know where Margarette was born or raised.

I don't know how old Margarette is but I'm pretty sure she was born in the last century.  With some people, it's hard to tell.

"The Operation Catfish is cancelled," Margarette told me.

She wouldn't answer when I asked why.  She was tightlipped except when she was shoveling in the gumbo.

Margarette had ridden her bicycle to Rendon Inn.  Unless you know exactly where you are going, or, you are totally lost, you will never find Rendon Inn on your own.  You'll need someone to draw you a map.

Margarette's bicycle was locked to the street sign on the corner of South Rendon and Eve Streets.  When she was finished eating and had wiped her mouth, a flock of snow white doves landed around her bike.  

There must have been fifty doves.  Some of them were on her bike, some of them were under it.  Others were next to it, on one side or on the other.  

They looked us us through the front window.

"I've got to go" Margarette told me.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I'll tell you that the next time I see you.  I'll text you."

We shook hands.

Margarette unlocked her bicycle and pedaled down Eve Street toward the river.  

"Hoo-boy, the river, again," I thought to myself inside my head.  

"What's the next rumor going to be?" I wondered aloud.

Jimmie leaned close to me.  "I think she's an heiress," he whispered.

To be continued......

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