Train Wreck

I am back at the library in NOLA, after having been thrown off of the train by the Railroad Inspector, his buddy from Union Pacific, and a third buddy, whose vehicle said "Harbor Police" on it; and then finally by a NOLA cop who went through the motions of handcuffing me and hauling me off, but then let me go 5 miles outside of the French Quarter.

Stay Here With Me, Daniel!

One might think that the city would look the other way as the street types make their exodus, during this, the slowest season.
But, apparently because of the numbers of train hoppers, they are actually watching the video monitors. The NOLA cop had gotten on his radio as we were pulling out of the rail yard and told someone that he was doing a "relocation."
Then, as we arrived at some desolate place on the outskirts of town, he told me that he was going to release me; and that he didn't want to see me at the rail yard again.
"Thanks," I said, but maybe without enough conviction.
"You heard what I said, didn't you?"

"Sure, Thanks a lot," I said a little louder and trying to sound relieved.
I had actually taken note of all the proceedings, and was pretty sure that I wasn't going to jail -from them having found warrants on me; and then learning that they were "do not extradite" and then the fact that the rail inspector had no power to search my bag, but only asked me what was in it; and the Union Pacific guy was just a glorified security guard; and that, after the NOLA cop showed up, his own disinterest in searching my stuff told me that they weren't planning upon bringing me to jail.
So, I arrived back at Barnabys around 10 p.m. and flat broke after carrying my pack (which I had stuffed with heavy food and drink items at the Family Dollar near the rail yard) all the way through the 7th Ward and back to the Quarter.
I didn't feel like playing because it was dead; outside of people asking for money and cigarettes
And, I needed to regroup, get a good nights sleep and come up with another plan...
I had opted to buy cigarettes by the rail yard instead of alcohol, and so I had a period of sober reflection, sitting at the sign spot last night and this morning...
Something is going to have to give in the next week or so. I don't want to make any snap decisions.
I've got new strings on the Yamaha, and it will be a Wednesday night; and, once again...as soon as I get a certain amount of money in my pocket, I will try to take this vacation.
I have to sift through about a half dozen options, not limited to asking the United Way type of organization for a bus ticket (they are all about re-uniting families that have become scattered).