Hobo Confessions #23 - Thou shalt never be sure about leaving a place

February 19th -

Feeling good this morning. Almost time to head back. Plenty of time left though. Musn't get distracted now. Missed Barkus, but saw a thousand dog costumes anyway. Back alley pralines. Mad dog karaoke. Neko's friend Gigi. She ate the bar cake. Fucking tequila. Giant Pizza New York Style, pepperoni. Pizza D. Decatur is my second fave street.

It's a beautiful New Orleans day. We've done well today. I pray my cat is ok. Excited to be going home. Excited to miss New Orleans. And I will miss it. Friends everywhere. Huge draughts, followed by plentiful friendly rains. She's a fickle spirit, this city. She fills you with love, and then reminds you she's in control. Reminds me of someone

else in my life. Ha. Not sure I'm ready for a 28 hour bus ride. But I haven't left myself a choice. My reception should be favorable. Mostly. What have I learned? Why am I here, now? What would Hunter S. T. say? Something like, "The mother fills us with her whisky teet, and punishes us severely for our missteps." and he'd be right. "Luckily, mad dog guides us this night, Feb 19th -

of our lord yada yada." One more full day, and half a day to think about what we've done. I enjoy Gigi, by the way. Girl feels her way through life. Drunks tequila and wears the title pimp proudly. I've met so-many-people. Many profound, many minor. All characters in the great cosmic play. I would list them, but what's the point. Oh, don't wanna forget Mallry though. Blue fake eye lashes, excessive giggles, big ass, of course, with a boyfriend. I'd stay for her, -

if it weren't for that last part. If I were good at telling stories, I would tell the world everything that has happened. I feel like the words will never be enough, and the feelings are un-tell-able. I think its time to go home, and make it better, all while imagining leaving. One more full day, and half-a-one to realize what I've done.

I remember being determined to eat pizza on this day. Hell or high water wouldn't stop me. I had heard the best pizza in the city was at Pizza Delicious, so why would I go anywhere else? It was early still, and I wanted to wait for Neko to come out of hibernation.

Unfortunately, I had missed the Mardi Gras dog parade known as Barkus. I took to the streets right after it had ended, though, and was swarmed by silly little dogs in colorful costumes. In my opinion, a more desirable experience than standing at a parade.

I walked the length of the French Quarter on Decatur Street and back to Frenchmen again, seeking one thing: sugar.

I contemplated ice creams and candies by the store-full, but happened across a praline shop. There were guys making pralines behind glass as you walk in, and a wall of sweets on the opposite wall. Being New Orleans, these walls were awfully close together, and it was popular. It made for a very intimate praline experience.

After soaking fully in what Decatur Street had to offer, including a tarot reading, the crazy Violin guy that I had seen playing before, and putting 8 dollars worth of sugar in my face, I met up with Neko. It was finally time for pizza. Pizza D was a great spot. The decor constructed from kitchen waste, like tin can lids, was especially impressive. I gave up talking once the pizza came. No time.

Near the end of pizza adventure, Neko's friend Gigi met up with us. She was a tiny woman with straight black pigtails and a round frame. Not my type, very cute though. She had jokes for days, smart as a whip. We went with her to a bar 2 blocks over, and she ate someone's piece of cake they left on the bar. She proceeded to buy us a shot of horrendous tequila, as the older woman with the dog at the end of the bar bought us a round for no reason. Sipping my Yeungling, I absorbed the energy of the dive. It was cozy, and I hadn't had to pay for a drink yet.

Gigi had adult things to do in the morning, but Neko and I decided to head to the Karaoke bar. We stopped at a small closet passing as a convenience mart and grabbed a couple Mad Dogs on our way. These ought to get us singing. Neko performed Clint Eastwood, but the bar was pretty dead so we took off.

My days in New Orleans were approaching an end. I recounted all I had learned.

Here are links to the confessions if you want to catch up! Follow along if you're enjoying, I would appreciate it greatly.