Blue, Oh So Lonely

Color My World
Waking up almost
Broke on Tuesday, I spent time in the library, and then went out in the evening to play.
They are shooting a movie in the streets ("GI Joe" with Bruce Willis) and had a bunch of RVs and other trucks with the studio name on them, parked all around Decatur Street. I walked past all that; if I want to see Bruce Willis, I'll go to the movies. The last time I went was in 1996, to see Waterworld. I didn't really care if I missed my chance to be an "extra" as a street musician that Mr. Willis walks past, with Angelina Jollie on his arm...

Where Blue Paid Ten Bucks For Two Lousy
Shots Of Whiskey...

I went further down Decatur, planning to spend my last dollar on a beer, when a young woman walked up to me and asked me for a light, which I gave her.
She seemed pretty drunk.
We talked for a while.
She said her name was "Blue."
She offered to buy me a drink, which she did, at Checkpoint Charlie's. We each had a shot of whiskey at 5 bucks each. The tab of 10 bucks for two shots made me change my opinion of the sporadic 5 dollar tips that people throw in my case. I guess, in their minds, they are just getting me a shot of Evan Williams, a cheap whiskey...
Then, we started walking, with Blue kind of following along with me and asking me where I was going to play.
We ran into a couple of street people, a black guy and a white guy. They were apparently panhandling; apparently for alcohol, from their demeanor, and their breaths.
Blue started to tease them, asking them what they "do." Do they sing, dance, tell stories, tell jokes?
Neither of them could think of a joke (what a joke, that).
Blue then started bargaining with the black one about getting her something, which I thought was pills of some kind, from the snippets of whispered conversation that bled through the cacophony of Decatur Street.
The black guy agreed to bring her somewhere to get what she wanted.
Since Blue had bought me a shot of whiskey, I walked along with her, so that she wouldn't be going into the 7th ward with a black guy that she just met on the sidewalk and a pocket full of money, not alone, at least.
To make a long story short, the black guy took her money, leaving his backpack as collateral; then came back with something that turned out to be some fake B.S. and not the drug that Blue wanted.
She said that she had half expected so much. She wasn't green when it came to dealing with drugs.
At that point, Blue said that she just wanted to lay down somewhere, and that she knew a spot to do just that, having lived her whole life in New Orleans, except for the past couple years.


Saint Bernard Parish, Louisianna.
At least Blue still has a roof over her head...

 She lives in Saint Bernard Parish now; one of the worst hit areas by hurricane Katrina, back in '06.
We slept together under a tree in a field not far from a tractor trailor truck, which idled all night.
Blue was tickled pink to see that I came prepared with a towel to spread out under us, so that we wouldn't wake up purple with ant bites.
I didn't sleep very much. When we first layed down, I adjusted my backpack, so that we could both use it as a pillow. This positioned our heads very close together. Blue wrapped herself around me in a manner very reminiscent of one Karrie. I could hear and feel her heart pounding for a while, which was keeping me awake. I figured that she was laying there in anticipation, or white with fear, of what I might try to do.
She had told me repeatedly, throughout the evening, that she was tired of men and all their B.S. She said that her usual tack was to tell men that she was gay; so, when it came to making an overture, I was a little bit yellow.
Eventually she started softly snoring, and I joined her in slumber shortly thereafter.
We slept kind of fitfully, each of us exchanging sighs and moans of contentment after adjusting our positions and finding more comfort. It became pretty cool in the morning. Blue had removed her shorts and was wearing only her panties and a tee shirt, I happened to notice...I gave her my heaviest (green) shirt, which she donned about 4 a.m.

A Vacation From This??
Shown the next day, after being
wined and dined by Blue, yet having
slept little and feeling "Like I've been
eaten by a coyote and crapped over a cliff..."

We woke up right before sunup and some things happened between us which are beyond the scope of this blog.

Then, we went to a store, where Blue bought me food, beer (6 a.m. beer; I have been initiated into New Orleans society...) and gave me cigarettes. She lamented that she would never see me again, and offered to take me with her to Saint Bernard Parish. I asked her if there were any street musicians there. "It's a swamp," she said, adding that it would be "like a vacation" for me.
I declined. A vacation from what? I thought.
She is 31 and has a pretty face, hair dyed black which used to be "really dark brown," and has tattoos and piercings in various places, which are beyond the scope of this blog. She is a little bit overweight, but used to be as skinny as me, she said. That was when she was a "junkie" and would live on Little Debbie cakes and Wild Irish Rose wine for days.
This was when she lived in Seattle, Washington, a place that she is determined to return to, and why not? She would still get her disability check (see below), and could hike the trails, collecting herbs.
She is very learned in horticulture. As we walked along, she named every plant which we encountered, both in the sidewalk cracks, and in peoples front yards. Japanese Petunia is one that comes to mind. She also knows about herbs, and assured me, as we sat in the parking lot of a store, that I could eat the "amaranth" which we were practically sitting in. I took a small sample.
Now she gets a check every month for being mentally disabled ("substance abuse is considered a disability"), lives in a small RV with her cat, and apparently doesn't get to New Orleans very much -probably "overdid it" a bit last night, as evidenced by the fact that she wound up sleeping under a tree with me.

All this was a little too much for me to consider dealing with, and getting on the bus to Saint Bernard with her. What if she sobered up and decided that I had to leave her place, 20 miles out in the swamps of Louisiana?

I hope Sue doesn't see red if I tell her that I saw Blue.