bartender

For a while back there, I secretly wanted to be a bartender.

Late night pub crawling through the French Quarter. Love the colours singing behind the bar and the vacant look in her eyes…like walking through a painting come alive.

The cold is coming down here in Cambridge now and
 “Do you know what it means
  to miss New Orleeeans?” sings Louie Armstrong into my earphones…yes I do, Sir Louie. By God I do. My sweet sweet Nawlins…