New Orleans, Monday Afternoon

[stringstothesoul]

A fun fact about Erasmus: he owned a car! A car that had been taking up space in his mother's driveway since he went off to college, and even though it wasn't like he needed it on the island, she would like it gone, please. So yesterday he and his friends had portaled to his momma's house, been fussed over appropriately, and spent the night and been fed breakfast this morning before they had promptly headed out.

In the wrong direction, because New Orleans was right there and Erasmus knew his duties as Local Guide. They had like four more days after this to drive back to Maryland. It would be fine.

Now they were standing in the middle of the French Quarter as Erasmus tried really hard not to think about how much he was paying for the privilege of parking his car, and he asked, "Okay, what do we want to do? Bourbon Street is a hellhole." He was just getting that out there first thing.

((For those friends. NFB due to distance!))

Comments

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

Arden immediately nodded. "If we don't take every opportunity to show you Southern cuisine--" by which Arden meant 'prove to you the innate superiority of Southern cuisine, especially over your weird casserole-pizza' "--we'll be being bad friends," she told Riri.

[mindofageneration]

You shut your heathen mouth about deep-dish!

"I'll have to return the favor sometime." And also feel deeply conflicted and panicked about going back to Chicago.

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

They hated Jesus because he told them the truth.

"Well, not when it gets cold or else Erasmus might die," she said quickly. Because she was worried about Erasmus's health and comfort and not because she wanted to postpone a Chicago "food" tour for as long as she possibly could.

[mindofageneration]

Hey now. The pope's from Chicago now.

"He is a little like one of those dogs that shiver a lot," Riri admitted. With love! She did it with love!

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

The pope could be right about matters of theology and wrong about the matters of cuisine.

"Clearly we need to dress him in more little sweaters and knit booties," Arden said. Also with love!

[mindofageneration]

Tsk. Clearly she never had a good Italian beef.

"Another one of those really puffy jackets too."

Erasmus should be thrilled these were the friends he'd made.

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

Point of order: was there such a thing?

"And one of those little hats with a pom-pom on the top!"

They were blessings. Both of them.

[mindofageneration]

Oh, thems were fightin' words. Sorry not every part of the country could have diabetes flavored tea.

"A Bears one," Riri agreed immediately. Because it would be hilarious to her. And maybe only to her.

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

It was true. Some parts of the country seemed to have decided that flavor was the enemy. You know. Like Chicago.

Arden eyed Erasmus. "Is this some weird Chicago sports joke? Or are we teasing him for being a twink?" Because, if so, she had a brother she needed to shop for.

[mindofageneration]

Now that was just patentedly false. And now Riri would have to face her demons to correct this.

Or just keep repressing.

"A little of both," Riri admitted. "But he'd blend in better if he wore it."

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

Yup, whatever this joke was, it was flying right over Arden's head.

"Do you wear Bears stuff...?"

[mindofageneration]

"Oh, hell no. Bulls all the way, though."

Did she care if they did bad? No. Because she was a proper Chicago fan.