When? A Saturday night in the not-so-distant past, 2:00 am-ish
Where? Tucker's, in the warehouse district
What? A drunk gal announcing loudly, "I need a shrimp po-boy or a d**k, and I need it NOW!"
...hence the inspiration for this blog, which will serve as my diary of life in K-ville - post-Katrina New Orleans.
So...hi. I'm Cait. I'm 28 - certainly too old to hit up happy hour at The Boot with underaged Tulane students on Friday nights, but young enough to snicker at French tourists wearing support hose with knee socks as they meander down St. Charles Ave., gawking at the imposing Greek Revival mansions.
I moved here at the very beginning of May...the very same day that New Orleans experienced an insane deluge that left my car flooded, the odometer and tripometer no longer working. Since moving here to be closer to my family, I've learned how to fly over the intersection of Broad and Washington without destroying my oil pan, how to befriend cops in Central City, and how to make Drago's-style charbroilled oysters.
I've also learned that for every fun, hazy night spent at the Balcony Bar or over tapas at Baru, there's the sobering reality that life here is cynical at best.
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1 comment:
You hit the nail on the head with the cynical description. Throw in apathetic and you've pretty much summed it all up.
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