Feels Like 33 °F
Sunrise / Set
It is 33 degrees outside; and it feels like it, as a matter of fact.
Last night, I left the library shortly before 6 p.m. and shortly after the sun had set.
It was cold, but not bone-chilling cold.
I thought about going to the Lilly spot to try to enhance the 14 dollars which I had in my pocket.
Instead, I went and got a pint of whiskey from The Toulouse Market, and then to Starbucks, where I sipped upon "Irish" coffee until 9 p.m. when they closed.
Walking down Royal Street, I spent my self down to under 7 dollars with the purchase of a pack of cigarettes, thinking that, if nothing else, I had food under the dock; and whiskey in my pocket; and plenty of fresh batteries for the radio; and some herb; and, with the addition of cigarettes, what else could I want for, sitting by a fire and then wrapping up in 4 blankets to brave the cold.
10 Dollar Thursday
I decided to go to the Lilly spot after that, where I soon felt inclined to turn my spotlight on myself and play for a while. It was about 9:30 p.m.
It was a couple from Canada who came by me first (not counting the skeezers who could be heard muttering under their breaths -which were like steam escaping their mouths- about the cold and about the lack of tourists out and about the "tightness" of those tourists who were out.
The Canadian couple asked me if I knew any Canadian music....Celine Dion, Rush, Neil Young, Triumph?
Playing a bit of "Jack And Diane," by John Cougar Mellencamp produced a 5 dollar tip; and then wailing away further for another half hour, another 5 bucks to go with it and basically replace what I had spent that day.
I waited around, walking randomly around the Quarter, sipping on a Tecate beer
until almost 12:30 a.m., when Rouses put out what materialized into some tin foil basting pans and a grilled salmon dinner, and some "milk buns" which I intended for the rats.
|A Tecate like she has...|
Once again the dock area was deserted, with the Natchez still absent.
The Rats Take The Cheese
Once under the dock, I discovered that one of the rats had managed to use one of the rocks which I had stacked up in order to block some of the morning sunlight (which reflects pretty intensely off of the river with the steamboat not being there to block it) to boost itself up and take a wedge of cheese which I had put on the girder; knocking down and breaking my bottle of hot sauce in the process.
I almost considered withholding the buns from them.
I managed to make a pretty good driftwood fire, with the smoke blowing out over the river and not in the direction of anyone who might report it; and heated up and ate some pretty good food.
Natural Born Skeezers
A softening of my heart led me to put the buns out for the rats, as I figured that they had no morals and weren't disrespecting me by stealing my cheese; they are natural-born skeezers, in that regard...
I listened to my AM/FM radio, which was acting very quirky in the frigid temperatures with the volume level jumping from high to low and the thing shutting itself off randomly. Maybe that is why I found it discarded by the railroad tracks.
Finally, I wrapped up as best I could and slept fairly well, although it was cold -not cold enough to freeze the water in my jugs, I noticed- but cold enough so that I stirred a few times to rearrange my blankets.
This morning never really warmed up, and was rainy, to boot.
Now, I leave the library to probably go to Starbucks and spike coffee with vodka and to read and write and contemplate "weather" or not (excuse the pun) to call Lilly and tell her "It's a ghost town out here and I am freezing," to see if she will let me crash at her place.
She said that she had TV and internet; oh, boy!!
I will have to flip a coin between that and cuddling up with the rats...