New Orleans. Twice in one week. Egads!
Memory serves that it was the first trip with D that was so eventful. First, there was the sunglass debacle. They were gone. Disappeared like dust in the wind. Weird.
Then, there was the eeire knowledge of the wealth of the city ~ sequestered away behind iron bars and buildings made of bricks that are 200 years old. Opulence mere yards away from the filth and debauchery on the streets.
But nothing quite compared to the unique experience of putting a mule, harnessed not only by leather but also by narrow streets, and the carriage he was pulling, in reverse.
You see, we had turned down yet another alley way of a road, only to discover men and machinery blocking our forward motion. There was only one thing to do:
HACK.
Yup. Hack.
(Don't ask me. I didn't break the mule. I'da chose some other word. One sounding less like one loosing their cookies after a night of revelry on the infamous New Orleans streets!)
The only problem was, the mule didn't want to HACK - er, - back up in a straight line. And there were cars. Honking at us. And, other mule-drawn carriages attempting to get by.
It is quite an odd sensation to be sitting on a carriage that feels as though it is about to jackknife. One really appreciates the skilled and hardworking truckers out there on the road after one has such an experience.
Well, eventually, HACK that old mule did. We were all a bit suprised. After all, he wanted to see Brad Pitts' New Orleans abode, too. Right down that narrow alleyway of a road that we couldn't access due to men and machinery. Seems he's an affinity for the actor and his brood. Or, maybe he's enamored with Angelina, and just doesn't want to admit it.
Given his female mule pal Gloria's disdainful head toss his way, my guess is that Angelina it is:
1 comment:
I thought her name was Myrtle?! mmph! ;)
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