Except my furtive glances are not furtive and they are not at another human being. They focus on flowers and palm trees. On streetcars and cast iron gates. On ornate facades and on sidewalks made uneven from the roots of ancient Oaks.
I recently went to a New England wedding that was beautiful. It was cold and snowy. The bride went to school in New Orleans and many of the guests had visited at some point. Most of my conversations rotated around the trips they had made to NOLA and how much they loved it- which was awesome. I got to talk about my relationship without being THAT GIRL who stood around telling everyone how great her boyfriend was. (I was, however, THAT GIRL when I pulled out my phone to show people pictures of my cat... you win some, you lose some).
I always loving hearing people giddily recount their trip to Mardi Gras or their first experience with poboys. I also always love hearing the questions that come from people who have never been here. I got two doozies during the wedding weekend that were too good to pass up:
- You're from Louisiana? So do you speak French?
- I think my "please stop making eye contact with me you idiot" look answered his question, but really I should have said "Si- hablo espanol." (Given his question, he probably would not have known the difference).
- You live in Louisiana? Have you ever harvested wild boars?
- I couldn't immediately make a face to this one because I wasn't sure I heard the question right.
- Me: What?
- Them: You know- boars?
- Me: Yes- I know what boars are but what did you ask me about them?
- Them: Have you harvested them?
- Me: What the hell are you talking about?
- Them: My friend went to Alabama once and did it.
- Me: You do know there is an entire state in between Alabama and Louisiana and that New Orleans is a city, right?
- Me *Turn around to start talking to someone else.*
Ultimately, I guess my love affair with my city somewhat relies on the magic and mystery that comes with New Orleans. As long as I love it and am all too eager to talk about it, I am going to have to put up with idiotic questions.
Or, if things get really bad, I can always pull out pictures of my cat.
|And here's one of her in my laundry...|