In Sue's Defense

• Sue Matters
• Friday night



Sue, alone, and awash in confusion and worry...

• Saturday Morning Blessing

I saw Sue twice yesterday.
Once, as she was exiting the library, and again that evening, as she was sitting in front of the Supreme Court building, flanked on all sides by her belongings.
Both times, I greeted her and got no real response.
As I walked past her on Royal Street, I was in good spirits and said "Guitar lessons, 25 bucks and hour!" and she may have been thinking about smiling, but didn't.
She is a different animal after she drinks, or, maybe it could be argued that she is truer to the real animal that she is after she drinks.
Her main complaint about me is that she doesn't like me as much when I drink "a lot." Neither do I.
The first time I drank with her, I was mildly shocked to hear her say things like "I should go into that restaurant and grab the waitress' tips off the tables," and "I hope I find a wallet."
The fact that she added to the first arguement: "They won't even see me, if I do it quick (sic)!" made me wonder just how serious she was.
About the "wallet," I told her about a time when I found a wallet with over 900 dollars in it; called what I gathered was his place of employment, based upon recent pay stubs within, and returned it to the guy (even though he was Mexican, Sue) and felt good about doing it, reasoning that I couldn't miss money that I never expected to have beforehand.
She acted as if that was the most incomprehensible thing that she had ever heard of. "No way, I'm keeping it!"
"You could at least drop the empty wallet in a mailbox, so they would get their licence back, and their pictures of their kids."
"No, that goes in the trash. I don't have time for that s***!"

Sue packs her bag, purple shirt and all, similar to
the way she did
Sunday morning, after she threw the
"at least a hundred dollars" at me.

Somewhere way in the back of my mind, I reserve the possibility of someday introducing these (present and former girlfriends) to my mother. I could save the 1,300 mile journey for two, and just give her my mom's disapproval in person.
Last Saturday night she reiterated her wish to "find a wallet" at one point in the evening, before we had run into the wealthy couple and the wealthy Russians, who had given "us at least a hundred bucks."
In Sue's defense, I think she is probably joking, or rather, testing me to see my reaction.
As I have said before, I believe that running into Sue twice in one day means that she had masterminded a plot to have me run into her twice upon that particular day. We are both creatures of habit.
Friday Night
Last night, I hit the streets at about 6 p.m., after coming back from the courthouse with my charges having been dismissed.
I went to Decatur Street, taking the Royal Street route, observing that latter street to be becoming increasingly populated by street performers. I think it is a prelude to Mardi Gras; musicians are claiming spots and are coming out now, more to mark their territory than to necessarily make good money.

I play in the doorway to the left, in the center of
the concrete portion of the sidewalk
(which seems out of place, juxtaposed to the historical
tiles, layed by the French).

I am playing well lately, bolstered by the knowledge that the Jasmine has been fixed with a new tuning machine for the "g" string, and that I have a new set of (the expensive kind of) strings as backups to any that I might break, should I decide to "all out go for it" on any song. Playing without regard for snapping a string is liberating, and, I find that I break less strings that way...
It was a slow night, but I did better than any of the others on Decatur, based upon my conversations. They all had made less than 12 bucks. I had been on my spot for two hours.
I knocked off 45 minutes past "curfew," then moved to the Bourbon Street spot, where I had continued modestly good luck.
The highlight of the Bourbon Street experience occured when a well dressed man walked past. He was alone and the only one within earshot at the time.
He looked straight ahead and gave no indication of having even seen me.
I decided to try to play my absolute best. I focused in and played "Norweigian Wood," by the Beatles, nailing all the subtle melody notes. He stopped about 20 feet past me, came back and put three bucks in my case, to go along with the about twenty that I would make for the night.

I am almost ready to begin...

Blessings
Then, this morning, as Howard and I sat reading under the sign, a car stopped and out got a lady, who walked over and gave Howard two 100 dollar bills and said "This is for you two to share."
And that's the way it is, Saturday, January 28, 2012.
I will get some fuel for the little stove that Alex from California sent, and a little stainless steel cup, to save about 2 bucks per day on morning tea and coffee.
Oh, and a neckstrap for my harmonica, which I might debut tonight, so that I can double my income -can't forget that.
I am trying to find out if I can plug a mic into my mp3 player (where it is labelled "mic") and get a decent enough quality recording so that I can start posting little audio snippets here.
Off to work....