Well, I am no longer a resident of Houston. For the past week, I spent much of my time loading my automobile with many of my worldly goods and personal effects. With my mother returning from the Cayman Islands the evening before my departure, I added a tin full of rum cake and a T-Shirt from Hell to my pile of possessions. I arranged these items in such a way as to have most of the views one needs to operative a motor vehicle without dying. However, I do have a truck-driver-esque blind spot on the right side of the car. This should be okay, however, since I will just try to avoid doing anything that involves me moving the car to the right. Monday morning around 7:30AM I hit the road for the first leg of my roundabout journey to Philadelphia.
After bidding farewell to my folks, I made my way to I-10, eastward bound. However, I am not yet a Philadelphian. In reality, I am a homeless man, living out of my car, off the land and the kindness of others. I decided to make this move a road trip; and, as such, I am not taking the most direct route to Philly. My first stop was to be in New Orleans, where I could take one last look at the crippled city in which I spent much of my five college years. The drive to New Orleans was uneventful. It took a little while to get used to have such a large blind spot on the right, but it did not cause any problems, or at least problems that I saw. When I hit even the smallest bump in the road, I could hear all my goods creaking and rubbing together which worries me since I want them to all be functional when I arrive and unpack my car. I had a Wendy’s spicy chicken sandwich around 1:30. The Wendy’s cashier took an interest in my “Big Belly Records” shirt which I acquired in New Orleans at the now defunct Thrift City. I told her I got the shirt in New Orleans prior to hurricane. She then asked where I currently stayed. At that point, I did not have an answer, being homeless, so I simply created a diversion by knocking the cash register and some other people’s food orders onto the floor. I then ran out of the store quickly and drove back to the highway.
I arrived in New Orleans around 2:30. I drove straight to Mel and Chris’ house off the 224 in Metairie so I could take a shower and get my computer and other perishable electronics out of my car. The creepy, bearded man named Richard was not trolling the streets for someone to talk to when I drove up, which was a good thing. I stayed with Chris and Mel back in May when I went to the 2006 graduation and saw, but did not hear, presidents Bush and Clinton speak. Once, when I was getting out of my car, I was accosted by this bearded man named Richard. He thought I was one of the residents of the house (likely Chris) and proceeded to delineate a laundry list of depressing events in his life. Then he dropped the name of some lady that he knew that was a piano player for silent movie theatres in the 1930’s. He also told me about a radiologist he knew. Fortunately, I broke away from him at that time. He had auction house levels of beard hair. In fact, he may have been affiliated with auction houses; I am not sure. Mel and Chris filled me in on his bizarre ways and urged me to watch out for him the future if I valued my time. Richard later came by the house that night looking for me to let me know that his radiologist friend had called him, but Mel and Chris lied about my whereabouts.
Anyhow, since I had come in too late to have lunch with my former math advisor, he invited me over to have drinks before I went off to dinner. In the meantime, I took a shower and laid out routes for the rest of the trip. Melanie got home and we decided to have dinner at a new French sounding restaurant on St. Charles. I went off to my advisor’s house where I sat with him and his wife (also one of my professors) discussing all sorts of fun topics. I got some good advice about graduate school and Philadelphia living. They told me that the French restaurant was bad and that we should instead go to a restaurant call “One” near O Henry’s. We chatted for a couple of hours during which I prevented them from eating dinner. One son got so hungry that he ate a peanut butter sandwich. Finally, it was time to leave. Handshakes and hugs were exchanged, and I knew I would see them again in Philadelphia.
I rushed over to One to meet my friend Fritz, whom I had neglected to tell of the change in meal time. We got a table and waited for Chris and Melanie. He updated me on his work and living situations. Fritz has a history of taking food from my plate. Fritz “accidentally” took one of the two internship spots I was to occupy. It was quite controversial. He currently works at another technology company to which I applied. Here I am a homeless man while he collects money that could be going to me. It was an interesting turn of events that we were preparing to eat in a situation in which my plated food would be secure. When I visited New Orleans in May, I totally did not hang out with Fritz due to my angers toward him (I intentionally never put his phone number in my cell phone). This stuck in Fritz’s craw so I made sure to have dinner and a beer with him (you should always keep those who might do you financial harm close). The way I see it, revenge is a dish best served with horseradish.
Mel and Chris finally showed up; and Bubbles, our server, took drink orders and brought us bread. She tried to trick me into purchasing bottled water by implying that the tap water was somehow adulterated, but I didn’t fall for her scam. The menu had five entrees and some appetizers so I got some weird pasta that I had not heard of and so did Melnee. Chris got rabbits legs which reminded me of my old sofa which was once soaked in rabbit’s blood by Hobbs and Hijuelos that is now finally resting in Couch Heaven with the Couch Messiah. Fritz got the fish. The dishes were pretty good in my opinion, but I am not sure they justified the cost. However, we carried on a good conversation covering a variety of topics such as computer programming, annoying coworkers (Blue Shield), Katrina, New Orleans, and celebrity boxing. After dinner we shared some beers/glass of water at Madigans before calling it a night. Fritz went home to crash and we went back to Mel and Chris’ where Hobbs showed up to regale us with stories of his Greek adventures. I will not get into the specifics of his trip stories, but I will say is there are certain caves in Greece that should be avoided at all costs. I questioned Hobbs on his closet LSU affections, but he put up a wall of denial. Everyone was tired so Hobbs eventually left. We agreed to meet in Philly for a cheese steak. After he left and Chris and Mel went to bed, I watched about two thirds of I Robot starring Will Smith. It was a passable movie with terrible dialogue, such as the climactic line uttered by Smith, “You need to die now!”
The next morning I woke up to find Mel and Chris already gone and a note left telling me to lock up as I left and to move the litter boxes back to their spots in the guest bedroom. As I went outside to bring my car into the driveway, I saw that Beardy Richard had cornered an Entergy employee. This was good to me as it provided a diversion so that Richard would not accost me. I repacked my car and said goodbye for a long time to New Orleans. As I drove away, Richard had not yet released the Entergy worker from his conversational clutches. I hope that the next time I see the city; it will be back to its old, corrupt, barely functioning self, to quote my advisor. There are no guarantees, though. Next stop, Fort Walton Beach, Florida to the fabulous house of April T-With-The-Fifteen-Letters.