Moving to NOLA (New Orleans)
“I think you’d like living here,” Norris advised. “There’s tons of artist types in New Orleans, so it’s perfect for a writer like you. I really think you’ll find some inspiration here.”
“Well, due to unforeseen circumstances, it looks like I may be there as soon as this weekend,” I retorted. “It seems my aunt is coming down to visit and doesn’t want my cats to be here, which translates into me not being there either. Shit just got really weird here all of a sudden, so I guess I’ll be there soon.”
“It’s not such a bad thing,” Norris cooed. “Just think, you’ll be here for Mardi Gras. If you would have waited like you talked about before, you would have missed all the fun and festivities.”
“Oh shit,” I groaned. “I forgot about Mardi Gras. I was actually looking to avoid it this year.”
“Apparently, the city is not going to let you slip by that easily. Besides, why would you want to miss Mardi Gras? It’s probably the best time to make some quick money.”
“He’ll be there,” I sighed. “I just don’t think I’m ready to run into him now that I know he’s with that bitch. I knew they’d wind up together, but it’s still so soon and saw raw, so fresh…”
“Just don’t go where you’ll know he’s gunna be,” Norris offered. “Come hang out with me. Remember the concert we did last year with Chee Weez and all?”
And that’s what I did. I tried to avoid most of what I could, tried to sneak away from everything, running into the shadows. I’m not really good at hiding out for too long though.
Even my very simple attempt at living became an adventure, as we put the cats in Slidell’s Bate’s Motel and toured around from house to house trying to find somewhere for me to live. At the end of the day, one of the ads I saw online in Florida wound up working out. It was the one I thought I for sure did not want, but it simply called out to me.
The roommate ad sounded too perfect, even from the beginning. When I looked at houses, doing the math on how much it would cost me with utilities and all, the roommate ad sounded even more tempting. The only problem was the fact that there was no answer when we tried to call, when we see it for the appointment that had been set up.
Twenty-three houses were checked off our list, narrowing it down to one possibility by the huge bridge, not too far from Walmart and the Salvation Army. It still seemed a tad far out for me to live, considering I did not have a car. We called the roommate ad one last time.
“Sorry, I got drunk while ragin’ at the parades last night. If you still wanna see it, come on over. The house is a little trashed though, just to let ya know.”
Having more room and being in a nicer area than any of the others we looked at before, I knew it was as good as home when I saw the bong on the table. The disheveled Scottish man had barely any furniture, but it was enough to excuse me from needing to buy any, especially since there were built-in bookcases in the closet and leftover knick-knacks from his previous roommate. When explaining his girlfriend situation to him, he started humming the theme from Batman, but instead screamed, “18!”
An instant hook-up, I was introduced to New Orleans’ finest in a matter of a month. “If you ever want to go on a diet, don’t bother, just go on a binge. Where’s the drugs?”
The trustafarian, a trust funder with that sense of responsibility to play golf all day everyday and that’s about it, took me out to bars, introducing me to other cliques of trust fund kids. Though I thought I was out of place at times, I realized that none of them were any better than me, even if there was a Beamer in their driveway. Probably the best think my new guiding light challenged me to do was, “be a baabaaaaayyyy!”
My attorney only stayed a few days before he was called back to the darkness which he had previously escaped, back to be with Dred, who we had slid away from in order to make the move (though he knew all along what we were up to, not being very happy with it). While he was gone, all I had was my Scotsman from Memphis. “Listen, Beables, all you need to do is take all you can from any man you go out with, because they’re only looking for one thing from you, so give ‘em hell and take whatever they’re dumb enough to give you without feeling bad.”
The whole concept was a totally new idea to me, I mean, that I had a guy instructing me to do this was just out of my realm. At first, I was scared, staying inside most of the time, but then I got my introductions and had no excuse. “You haven’t left the house in like four days, just typin’ away on that stupid computer; get the hell out of the house and come with us!”
Parties and blow, just to keep thing interesting. His girlfriend was fun to hang with, too, a real cute Irish girl. Before long, the offer came.
“Ya know, my Beables has always been curious about what it’s like to be with another little baaabaaaayyyy. What do you think? You up for joining in?”
Slinking up to me, batting her long eyelashes, distracting from her disoriented pupils. “It’s just a curiosity think, I guess. If you don’t want to, it’s cool; no pressure.”
Yes to threesome?
or
No to threesome
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Email: thorisaz@hotmail.com
