Birth Month

Published by Duncan in the blog Duncan's Blog. Views: 25

I celebrate April long. It allows those folks who couldn't be with me on the actual birth DAY to still participate in the festivity.
I don't do much that would be considered exciting. Generally eat a meal out or go on a road trip. The trips lately have been to San Francisco (my second hometown).
This year I decided to go to Louisiana. I've never been and it's been on my bucket list for a long while. This trip included Lake Charles and New Orleans.
Some folks I know don't go anywhere or do anything outside their normal routine or comfort zone. As for me, I have been an independent traveller as long as I can remember. I went to Europe when I was 16 and stayed with a family in Austria. When I graduated from high school, I took AMTRAK and looked at universities in the midwest (mostly Illinois and Wisconsin). I wound up going to a city university in my hometown.
Finding a good travel companion can be as daunting as finding a soul mate. I have had a few who are--sadly--no longer among us. One who was a horror has made suggestions about wanting to go somewhere with me. I remember taking a cross-country trip with her and was ready to just abandon her a few times. Even when a travel companion is the worst of the worst, he/it/they/she should know that sometimes a body needs to be alone or do things alone without witnesses (other than toilet time).
At one point in my New Orleans experience, I just opted to walk aimlessly without a destination, map, or GPS. I wound up having lunch at the canteen of the Department of Veterans Affairs Medical Center (yeah, I know, who gets hospital food on vacation?), and I also stopped at an old-fashioned ethnic barbershop for a straight-edge razor shave. It was vintage and delightful.
There was also a blind date on the last day... while I dragged my suitcase with me before going to the airport. We met for coffee at CC's Coffee House (941 Royal St, New Orleans, LA 70116) after which he asked me if I'd like to see his studio. He lived in the French Quarter in a space that was once called the slaves' quarters. "Where they kept the slaves and livestock."
He was the kisser. And quite attentive. But what surprised me most about his was the casual way that he had asked me if I like to f**k. It took me off guard. No one had asked me since I was in my 30s. I told him that it had been a while, but I was pretty sure I could still do it. Asked him if he had a condom, which he did. Asked him to put it on me, which he did (while playing oral hockey with me). It was like riding a bicycle. And he was adept at the missionary position. I told him that I would be delighted to practice the technique again.


Could I / would I ever live there? That is doubtful. I have learned to deal with the occasional earthquake. I live in a 100+ year old house that is still standing. I don't think I would want to live in a flood zone with the possibility of hurricane damage. I mean, I have to be mindful of the way I sit up and exhale when I get out of bed. Would such a person want to brave 90mph winds to get to a car that might overturn at a moment's notice? Nope.
Plus there is the incompatibility of being a blue Yankee. But that is for another time.
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