It was almost high noon in front of the St. Louis Cathedral in Jackson Square. I sat on the steps across from the Cathedral to wait for Mike to return from his wander inside. A melange of dogs, street performers, musicians, tourists, and vendors overwhelmed my senses. Until, I saw this man in blue.
From waist up he was very GQ: strikingly handsome, great hair cut, beautifully tailored and colorful 3/4 length coat. From the waist down he was all army issue: camouflage fatigues, mid-calf lace up boots that were well worn and just a little but grimy.
I couldn't resist. I got a few shots. He turned. He smiled at me and disappeared into the crowd in the square. I was not so bold. On some days when I am, I'd have spoken to him some and asked him if he minded if I took his photo. Today, I can only imagine and spin stories in my mind from afar.
Could he be a lost vagabond prince who found his way to New Orleans to finally have some incognito fun in his lifle? Or, maybe just some "yankee" coming down to do the same? Is he searching for his one true love? I wonder what language he might speak? Maybe a young soldier on leave who wants to make a fashion statement?
I know-I can hear you say: "Laury, you're such an incurable romantic." Of course, there are many other not so sugary sweet possibilities.
What might your story be?
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