It's no wonder that things are so effed up in New Orleans. Take one look at City Hall and you'll understand.
Bran and I arrive to take care of some bizzness:
1) No parking ANYWHERE (but worse today because of the limos for the Inauguration of the new Mayor.)
2) Pass thru the metal detector.........BEEP!........"go on thru." OK.
3) Get into the 1970's building to find that the Christmas decorations (still up in May) can also double as a chain to help form a line. Classy.
4) The filing system looks very organized. (and notice the Zulu coconut on the broken desk)
5) I'm pretty sure that these old records stacked way up to the ceiling are where they should be.
6) Then there is this cracky-looking dude in the Bret Michaels hat who is all over the place, saying hello, going from office to office chasing tail. He is obviously a regular. And as we leave, shouts at me to take his picture. I did.
I only went to two offices and I won't bitch about the second one because I got my way. Although I didn't have the correct paperwork that I needed, I stayed around to "sugar-pie" and "honey-child" the nice lady that was working as we talked about po-boys and seafood and the "earl" spill. After a little small talk, she says, "here you go, I saw the papers I needed to see." And she got me what I needed.
I guess that's how it's done in New Orleans. No rules, just some sugar-pie.
