Fed on to Spanish Plaza from the Ferry exit, I thought I'd take a peek into the Riverwalk. Little did I know, this once bustling riverside shopping mall and tourist attraction was closed. A conversion from the 1984 World Exposition, prior to the storm it was hit by a barge. Signs everywhere said that they'd be reopening in 2014 with ads for the coming retailers. Craving a burger, I headed back down into the Quarter. The thought of a burger joint or a sports bar of some kind didn't excite me. You know me by now, I instead opted for a meatball sandwich at the Napoleon House. There, I am surrounded by a place I love and feel safe, classical music, and old friends.
Prior to the storm, the Napoleon House was part of my weekly routine. I knew all the waiters and they knew me. I love walking into a place where your drink and your snacks are on your table before you even sit down. Those first times of return were strange. Establishments were opened for much reduced hours or not at all. (How many restaurants and bars do you need when there are only 65,000 people in a city of once 500,000?) The Napoleon House was no different. I always felt lucky when I found them open.
Notorious for slow and surly wait staff in the past, all that has changed. Only one of my waiter friends remains. I try to get his table when he's working, but even if I can't, we usually get a chance to hug and kiss and check in for a moment. Friday, he was running, sweating, multi-tasking, and finally had a moment for a sip of a soft drink. He stopped, sipped his soft drink, told me how nice it was to see me, but how hard it is because he never really gets to visit with the locals like he used to. He lamented: " We say hello. I promise to come back and visit with them. I turn around and two hours have passed and they're gone. I feel so bad." I asked if things had changed, which took us through ponderings of management, customers, and attitudes in general. What have we lost by wanting everything in "real time" and a constant attachment to "devices"?
He sprinted off. I made a run to the toilette and then patted him on the back and whispered good-by in his ear, as I continued my day for me. No matter what...the Napoleon House is THE PLACE for me in New Orleans.
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