Here’s a post from 8/19/2014. I edited the title, which was originally NOLA Notes: Magazine Bus Story. Too much punctuation. I did, however, use the word story twice in this post title. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Here we go:
For the uninitiated, Magazine Street is one of the main drags of Uptown New Orleans. I live a block away and take the Magazine bus when I need to make like Petula Clark and go downtown.
Yesterday, I was riding the bus and a grizzled, bedraggled, and downright drunk man rolled out of Ms. Mae’s bar and onto the bus at Napoleon Avenue. He’d been there all night and was clearly feeling no pain. He began flirting with a well-dressed and very pretty redhead who works at a boutique in the Quarter. He leaned forward and muttered something in her ear. She promptly slapped him and he said: “Thanks, baby.”
The driver asked the feisty redhead if she needed help. She did not. The bus rolled on without further incident. I was mystified but had a theory, which was confirmed.
This morning, I chatted up the aforementioned redhead and asked what the drunk had said to her. “He asked me to slap him to help him sober up for work. So I did.”
What a thoughtful young lady. That’s life in the big city. She-do-be.
Time for the obligatory bus song: