Not Even A Meow

This morning,
I woke up next to Sue.
I had eaten all of the food that I brought the night before, which was a granola type cereal, along with milk.
I haven't really had milk in about 25 years. I have a tollerance for it, but I wonder why I would want cow's mammary. I bought it mostly for Sue.
Sue told me "I don't eat cereal."
She didn't eat the soup that I bought for her (at $3.20 a can) because it was "I don't eat cold soup," the other day.
She wanted me to spend money on food for the bird yesterday; food that the bird may not have even eaten.
She told me that she released the bird by a pond in Louie Armstrong Park, and the bird immediately took to finding and eating food, all around the pond. After spending 4 days in captivity under Sue's stewardship, the poor thing must have been starving.
I have concluded that she is too scatterbrained to be a potential girlfriend.

This is a good example of "The New Orleans Scowl,"
seen on at least two faces
These are what I've heard called "gutter punks,"
they often have musical instuments; often can't play them...
They are inveterate panhandlers, just standing up with their hands
out. I really get bothered when they make more money than myself, when
I am playing my ass off and they are aggressively getting in people's faces and
begging. Many people choose to give them a little bit of money, (which to them is
usually 5 or 10 bucks) just to get them out of their faces...
I love to get 5 dollar tips, because I think that someone appreciated what I was doing.
By the way: the gutter punks wanted money after I had taken this picture of them...
What do you think it is worth???

Sue left our little spot this morning, to do God-knows-what, probably to feed her cat and give food and money to certain homeless, who trade in their sorry facades; the ones who sit in wheelchairs and beg, and who have apartments and checks coming in every month; the ones that pull the wool over Sue's eyes, making her think that they are like pond birds, lost on Canal Street and in need of Sue to come to their rescue...

Sue, with the can of soup which she couldn't eat, because it was "cold,"
and the can of chicken breast that I paid $3.50 for, and which Kooky ate,
and didn't even thank me with a meow for...

I have decided that Sue doesn't need me.
She started to tell me about some of her past, last night. She said that her mother died before she was born (yes, that's right, before she was born) and that she never met her father and that she was never close to her brothers and sisters.

This might explain why a cat and stray birds are the most ilmportant things in her life.

Maybe when she met me, she saw me as something as helpless as a pond bird in the middle of Canal Street. Maybe, now that she sees that I have some initiative, she is not as interested...

Just some thoughts on Sue...
I am leaving to go to Mobile for the Bayfest.
I invited Sue, but she doesn't want to go, even though I have given her compelling reasons to come with me, not the least of which being that it would be fun..
I am seeing her as just a casual friend, who sleeps next to me for protection, and because I don't try "anything."