Going Home! YAYUSS, GRRRL!
The mayor announced yesterday that if the EPA air tests come back good, he will allow Algiers, Uptown, and the French Quarter residents to return to their homes for good. I am ecstatic!
My new neighbors here in Westwego are so nice, but people I meet like out in public can be sooooo provincial, Girlfriend! West Bankers just have that way about them. I drove my fireman's station wagon in to Marerro to have a drink a couple of days ago... one place was open and I felt like a nice little toddy for the body. The bartender didn't even know what a cosmopolitan was! I almost DIED of shock, Girl! This is the kind of place I guess that you see in the westerns where you walk in, slam your fist on the bar, and growl "WHISKEY!" without even specifying a brand, and the bartender stops polishing glasses long enough to slide one and a bottle your way. I am used to stares, girl, but sometimes the "oh, look at the freak!" routine gets my panties in a bunch. One inbred oaf had the nerve to ask me from down the bar while I sipped my tequila sunrise, "Hey, what are you, a man, or a woman?" which some other patrons seemed to think was funny for some reason. Girl, I have been soooooo stressed out lately! I delicately slammed my glass down and gracefully stomped over, gently grabbed the miscreant by his bony little shoulders, and told him, "Neither one, Sweetheart. I am your worst friggin' nightmare!" Then of course I kissed him. Bit his lip and drew blood, too. All eyes were on me as I sashayed back to my seat, where I ordered another martini and generously tipped the bartender for having to clean up the mess I had made in my little tiff. He didn't quite know what to make of that. I guess that just isn't the sort of place where one customarily receives tips. I was left well alone after that. I did point out to the bartender that others might tip as well, if he wore a shirt. He said it was only because there is no air conditioning. Yeah, right. He wasn't wearing socks, either. I need to get back to the city! At least in the French Quarter, a gentleman without a shirt is usually showing off a yummy body. Tubby-wubbies keep their bellies decently covered! Can't wait to get home, Girlfriend! I need a cosmo so bad! Or at least a nice glass of merlot. I swear, when I get home, I will have one (okay, maybe a couple) cheat day and then it is cutting time for this heiffer! I have gotten FAT over here on the West Bank! Everybody is all about beer beer beer beer beer, and my diet has been carb rich and protein poor.
I filed for my FEMA money this morning. Supposedly everyone gets $2000 and if you have damages, you get more. Well, officially my friend Diana owns the condo, but my friend Lance and I did all the repairs (or started them, anyway) so when I get hold of her, I will probably be able to work out an equitable split of her compensation, if any. Silly me... I don't even know what if any insurance she has on the place! I suppose I need to write out an itemized bill so she can make a claim. I don't know. Anyway I am nearly broke and the 2G will come in handy. That will keep me going for several weeks. Many of my regular clients live Uptown and so I should be able to squeak out a living once they move back in and get their feet back on the ground. There won't be any tourists for a while.
My friend Dixie Normus finally contacted me again. She has been working, girl, and I don't mean tricking. I love her to death, but nobody is going to pay for that pussy any more. She is beyond rough trade. No, she has been clearing debris in the Garden District and making good money. However her place in the 9th ward will probably have to be completely rebuilt from the ground up, so I guess she is moving in with me in the condo. Katherine, my little kitty, will of course be going home with me. She has been such a comfort to me!
Okay, byebye for now!
Anna Bollick, JSRH
Homesick but hopeful,
Anna Bollick, JSRH
