It was hot, but 10-12 degrees cooler than Texas. I remember it used to smell like cajun spices, and seafood. Some areas still do, but now it also smells like vomit. The street perfomers peddling for money, and Burbon Street alive with partying, music and no cover charges. It’s okay to flit from one location to another if you don’t like one show walk on to the next one. There were jazz, blues, soul, funk, rap, and rock bands. Which do you think we mostly listened to?
After dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant I noticed we had a flat tire. My car parked right in front of two homeless drugged out looking guys sitting on the ground drinking beer. My instinct was oh no! I am so staying in the car. The scrawny young one says “I can help I’m not doing anything“. Don’t ask me why there was no lug wrench in my trunk. Young guy walks over to my window, sticks out his hand and says, “I’m Chris, and you…?“ (I should have said jerk off. Cause that’s what I was for judging someone without knowing them). Then he goes walking down the street and brings back two different lug wrenches. He borrowed from friends. Unfortunately they didn’t fit, but I keep fix a flat in the car. Which we used until we could get a new tire the next day. So there was another life lesson for me. I like to think I’m open minded, but not as much as I could be.