I might think about a hamburger at Port of Call for the first time in eight years. I might pass by Croissant D'Or to only find it closed on a Tuesday. I sometimes think about Masperos. It never fails. I always come back to the Napoleon House. It always feels like my home away from home in New Orleans. I'm comfortable there. I know some of the wait-staff, and where else in the Quarter can you get a quarter of a muffelatta, a small side of jambalaya, and a diet coke for right at $10. I sat. I journaled. I listened to a tour guide at the next table tell a group how there really was "A Streetcar Named Desire. What a treat!
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