Here's what's happened since I got back: 1. Two slugs appeared on my moldy bathroom wall. When I tried to flush them, they stayed peacefully in the bottom of the bowl, taunting me with their amphibious antennae. When I told Art that the creatures are making a comeback along with the basidiomycota (black bread mold- the only term I remember from my EEOB 101 taxonomy flashcards), he said, "Well, that's not a result of anything I did." Something southerners have not learned is that you can be at fault for NOT doing more things than you've DID.
2. After we stopped to get Steve some Cane's on the Westbank, a woody station wagon (license plate: G Wagon) came idling by, blasting beeee-boooo southern rap (one high note, one bass note, repeating throughout the whole song) with the driver dancing so hard, his hands weren't on the wheel. Said dancer must have been G himself. G's right rear tail lights were twice as close to the ground as his left. G seemed as happy to see us as we were him.
3. Learned that Cane's only sells fried chicken. Salads? Are you serious? This is their response. You can, however, substitute the cole slaw for double Texas toast, which is what Steve did, and then ate it slowly in the back of the Cutlass. Slowly because Steve has a small throat problem. Steve said, through small bites: "You know, if you only want a small snack, you can order a single chicken finger for 69 cents."
4. Quincy scratched a foot long portion of the hardwood away from the floor. I smell a rat. I smell one because we had a dead one decomposing for two weeks under our floorboards on Jefferson, and I just know it's a rat again. In this city, you become accustomed to the keenness of your nose when you least want it to be keen.
5. Quincy peed on Kate at the dog park. Then another dog came and peed on her right after that. And the homeless people sitting on the bench drinking hard alcohol laughed.
6. We did our own countdown for New Years after dancing with the Tumbleweeds who play washboards (yes!) who've been removed from time since they started doing hard drugs in the 70s. At midnight, Ashley said: "I like you." And I said, "I smell hot dogs." And Kate said, "Yum." And I said, "I bet you they're under three dollars." And we sached into the New Orleans stew of scents and senselessness.