Up Wednesday morning, after being woken at 9 a.m. by a World Trade Center maintenance worker in a bright orange shirt, I started in the direction of The Rebuild Center, where I was scheduled to see the prescription eye glass guy at 1:30.
I ran into Leslie, who was up and drinking near McDonalds on Canal Street, and was waiting for noon to arrive, when he would be paid for some work he had done at a restaurant which is being renovated.
He offered me a Hurricane, which I turned down, since it was only 10 a.m.
I was told, when I got to The Rebuild Center, to return at 1:30 when information would be taken from me and I would be given yet another appointment, to be taken by van to see an optometrist.
On that occasion, I will pick out eye glass frames from their limited selection of them (which all scream "I sleep under a bridge" from the bridge of a nose) and then some 2 weeks after that, the finished product will arrive at The Rebuild Center.
Next Tuesday, October 8th, at 7:15 a.m. I am scheduled to be driven by nun to see the eye doctor; and will have to give my alarm clock a test run before that, to make sure that it will sound...
Then, I went back into the Quarter and immediately ran into Leslie as soon as I got to Bourbon Street.
He had just gotten his money and was laden with whiskey and Hurricanes.
We went to eat at Rebuild.
I sat and gave information to a guy who filled out a multi-page form, which took until 2:30 to complete, and then Leslie an I walked back into the Quarter.
He bought us each 2 Hurricane Lagers, handed me 2 dollars ("for later") and then bought whiskey and cigarettes for his guests who had been trapped in his house for 21 hours.
Things Taper Off
And, from there, things just kind of disintegrated and I wound up cancelling my busking gig for the second time in a week; and realized that I just cannot hang with Leslie (in the sense that he can, and will, drink me under the table).
This morning, my phone woke me up at 8:17 a.m.
"It's Leslie!" said a drunken sounding voice.
He was at Unique Boutique and wanted to drink whiskey with someone.
I told him that I had to sleep another hour, and did just that.
I ran into Leslie, who was up and drinking near McDonalds on Canal Street, and was waiting for noon to arrive, when he would be paid for some work he had done at a restaurant which is being renovated.
He offered me a Hurricane, which I turned down, since it was only 10 a.m.
I was told, when I got to The Rebuild Center, to return at 1:30 when information would be taken from me and I would be given yet another appointment, to be taken by van to see an optometrist.
On that occasion, I will pick out eye glass frames from their limited selection of them (which all scream "I sleep under a bridge" from the bridge of a nose) and then some 2 weeks after that, the finished product will arrive at The Rebuild Center.
Next Tuesday, October 8th, at 7:15 a.m. I am scheduled to be driven by nun to see the eye doctor; and will have to give my alarm clock a test run before that, to make sure that it will sound...
Then, I went back into the Quarter and immediately ran into Leslie as soon as I got to Bourbon Street.
He had just gotten his money and was laden with whiskey and Hurricanes.
We went to eat at Rebuild.
I sat and gave information to a guy who filled out a multi-page form, which took until 2:30 to complete, and then Leslie an I walked back into the Quarter.
He bought us each 2 Hurricane Lagers, handed me 2 dollars ("for later") and then bought whiskey and cigarettes for his guests who had been trapped in his house for 21 hours.
Things Taper Off
And, from there, things just kind of disintegrated and I wound up cancelling my busking gig for the second time in a week; and realized that I just cannot hang with Leslie (in the sense that he can, and will, drink me under the table).
This morning, my phone woke me up at 8:17 a.m.
"It's Leslie!" said a drunken sounding voice.
He was at Unique Boutique and wanted to drink whiskey with someone.
I told him that I had to sleep another hour, and did just that.
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