|Busking for tips in the French Quarter|
We meet up with the Pool Hall Studs at Ryan's. Did someone say pool? I feel a PHS challenge and run across the street to see if their pool table is still there. Sorry, pal, we took it out a couple years ago 'cause it brings an undesirable element. I nod knowing what he means, crossing back to just that element. So, instead, after a try at Stanley in Jackson Square (too crowded), we settle in at (name to come) for a great lunch of crawfish, shrimp and lots more. Off to Pat O'Brien's (no Hurricanes for us, though) to soak up some sun along with an afternoon cocktail. The stars don't align for the river party, but we gather for our traditional Jazz Fest Monday night dinner with the Shoe Ladies entourage, this year at Mat & Maddie's uptown. Spectacular dinner (fried chicken w/ waffles, lamb chops, more). Barry makes sure to mention that he is wearing the shirt that I spilled a full glass of red wine on several years ago. I try to think of how to do it again, but I'm too far away. After a crazy cab back with a paranoid driver, nightcap in the Carousel Bar at Hotel Monteleone.