In keeping with my promise to try to bring the feel of ReNew Orleans to you, I would like to relate this short ancedote. I find the most meaning and insight in the littlest things & this goes to that...
Since taking an outside smoke break in March is usually a huge pain in the cold Pittsburgh weather, I was overjoyed to sit outside of NOLAC on Common Street in the sunny afternoon & watch the traffic try to navigate the chaotic streets & intersections of this town. (Some intersections are now 4-way stops, sans stop signs...apparently, you just have to be psychic...or way cautious.)
Anyhoo, I was out on this bench getting some well-deserved nicotiene & overheard this man on the bench across from me on his cell phone with his cell service provider. His side of the conversation went something like this:
"I just need to know how many minutes I have left. I just payed, like $25 a couple of days ago."
"Oh, yeah...my number is 504-353-XXXX"
"That's 5-0-4...5-0-4...yeah, I'm in Newalins. Yup, Katrina. That's why I've gotta know how many minutes I've got left...I'm on a budget, man...belly laugh...I've gotta get off the phone with you, 'cause I'm keeping this line free for FEMA..."
And it made me wonder, just when will FEMA call this man? His whole life right now depends on a call from the government. God, W. sucks.
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2 comments:
Should the King call FEMA to report the Queen of Nubia missing? Did she drown in the Nile of America (Mon-Ohio-Mississippi)and float down to the Delta? No worries, Chertoff is on the case.
Nope, I'll be back on Saturday. And ready to rock, my dear King.
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