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| New Orleanss 7th Ward at Night. |
If you're not Catholic, you don't care.
We are in the second week of Lent. It feels longer than that.
A guy sat next to me at the bar and he ordered an Abita Amber. He nursed at that beer bottle for a long, long time, always looking sideways at me. He was either looking at the TV or he was looking at me.
I was reading my Bible at the time. I had gone through two pages of tiny type when the guy next to me said, "Mingo wants to see you."
I didn't take the bait. I said, "Mingo's been dead for over a hundred fifty years." He knew I was right.
"Not that Mingo," the big mook said.
"I know the Mingo you mean," I said. I closed my good book. "Where does this Mingo want to meet me?"
"Next to the dumpsters at Manchu Chinese Food."
There are two Manchu Chinese Food shops within a short walk from my house. Both of them are painted purple. Both of them are famous for their fried chicken wings. Most people prefer the ones on Claiborne Avenue under the I-10 overpass, though. It is the more iconic location. I asked at which of Manchu chicken shops I was supposed to meet this Mingo.
"On St. Bernard Avenue," the mook said.
Good. To get to the Manchu on Claiborne Avenue means I would just have to walk down Esplanade Avenue to get there. There is nothing wrong with that, it's a straight shot, but I make that walk every day. For me, it is a much more picturesque stroll to the Manchu on St. Bernard Avenue.
I feasted my eyes.
The 7th Ward is full of interesting details. I was looking forward to meeting Mingo on St. Bernard Avenue. I took my time. The dumpsters stink outside Manchu Chicken. It serves him right.
On my way to meet Mingo, I stopped to watch a puppet show some neighborhood kids were putting on in a dishwasher box.
On my way to meet Mingo, I bought a huckaback from Widow Beaudreaux and I sucked on it as I made my way to St. Bernard Avenue.
You never know what you'll find when you turn a corner in New Orleans. Every errand is a pleasant adventure.
I talked to Mingo. We made a deal. He didn't shake me down. He was as good as dead. That's why he wanted to talk to me. Maybe somebody who reads this blog will give him money.
He offered to make me a member of his club. I told him I'd think about it. What else could I do? I'm going to think about it. I'm going to think about it for a long, long, long time. I don't know how long I'm going to think about it. Maybe I'll think about it for a hundred fifty years. I don't know and I don't care. When I come to my decision, Mingo will be the first one to know. I'll tell him personally. I won't use any surrogates.
I live on Esplanade Avenue. One side of my street is the 6th Ward. The other side of my street is the 7th Ward. You never know what you'll find when you turn a corner in this wonderful city your humble narrator calls home.
New Orleans is full of surprises. I know. I live here. I have lived to tell yet another tale. I hope to live to tell many, may more. A bad day in New Orleans is better than good day of fishing. You'll see when you visit. Visit New Orleans like you mean it.
Do you like soda pop and ice cream? New Orleans is a city full of daydreams that turn into jolly escapades. Catch a wish and you'll find yourself in New Orleans.
A word from out sponsor: La Belle Esplanade.
When you are ready to visit New Orleans like you mean it, there is only one B&B hotel where you should stay. It's La Belle Esplanade, the small hotel that will respect your intelligence. You belong here. Here's the link to La Belle Esplanade's blog. This blog is good but La Belle's blog is "The Best Written Blog in New Orleans."
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