neworleans

It's the second day that I moved in the attic of this Victorian Style house in French Quarter, New Orleans. Ah... the first thing I do when I wake up is to open the window where I can see Mississippi River. This place does not smell too good, especially after a hazy humid day where the garbage from the restaurant start to turn sour. I rented the attic of this restaurant from my boss, Ralph, a Haitian immigrant who has been in this city of Jazz for 15 years. Living in French Quarter is just not cheap at all but I am lucky enough to find this job as a bar tender and the boss was nice enough to rent me the attic. Well, of course he would still charge me rent, but it is still a lot cheaper then other apartment around here.
I only carried a couple of weeks of unemployment insurance pay when I planed my trip. I did not have enough money to buy ticket for flight. But my Jeep convertible was reliable enough to take me from Gothan City to this city that looks forward to the first Hurricane of the day. The smell of fresh coffee in the morning and live jazz band, Funk, Reggae artists, Mardi Gras and strong French culture had always lure me to explore this city of arts, from the antique to the avant-garde, from the eclectic to the esoteric to the erotic.
I had a good sleep last night. I remembered that I was reading the only book I had carried with me, Le Petit Prince before I had fallen asleep. I still can smell the perfume of those 2 Pretty Chinese girls who flirted with me for the whole night at the bar while I worked. But I was not interested at them. I know what I want in my life and I do not have time to waste on anything that just does not touch my soul. It's so sad to see all these rich younger generations who know nothing but play and busy spending their rich parent's money. What happen to those who have souls and not so materialistic?
I wonder if there is any health code forbids owning a dog in restaurant. Because I have just spotted a little brown dog that is going through all the garbage bags in front of restaurants. It does not have any tag and it actually limps when it walks. I decide to feed the dog some food and look at what is wrong with it.
The leftovers from my last night dinner gives that dog little energy so it is actually shaking it's tail the first time.
It's a boy. After he finishes his dinner and try to find a tree in the back yard of the Cajun restaurant. He reminds me of that little yellow dog our family used to own back in Taipei. It was a yellow mutt, looked kind of like a sharpie, but with less folds on him. I never needed a leash when I walked him. As the matter as the fact, I had never walked him. He follows me around when I went to catch my bus to elementary school and jumped up on me to greet me when I came back from school.
Do I really want to keep a dog? I am not really sure but he seems to like being with me now it's follow me whenever I go.
Ralph did not say anything after he saw me with the dog. I guess it is ok to keep it with me in the attic. I do not know where am I going to keep it if once I get tired of this place and decide to move on, or move back to Gotham City.
Sitting on the riverbank of Mississippi River watching the sunset, I feel like the main character of the book written by Earnest Hemmingway. Is this the life i really want? I don't know at least I can be able to calm myself down after all these years of floating up and down in corporate world. And of course, I don't have to face the truth that my fianc�e married someone who is richer and nicer looking then I am.
I just need a little rest. In the jazz city. With a dog, on the riverbank.