I just got back from a lovely lunch with my friend Jenn, visiting from Detroit, where she works up in the film industry. We went to Parkway Bakery, not far from my place so she could get a French fry poboy:
Something, I guess, you can't get in Detroit. This is the closest to veganism you can find around here. I had the more mundane shrimp...or "shwimps" as they're sometimes called round here. (thanks again, Jenn!)
More interesting than the food, however, was the clientele. Sure, there were the regulars, New Orleanian folk, but a good mixture of ambiguously gay young men there too. Ambiguously gay, but very un-ambiguously non-local. Hey, I may not be able to tell if you're gay or not, but I can tell if you're from here.
Aside from the confusing ambiguity, I was even more confused as to why they seemed to congregate here of all places at lunch on a Thursday. Mysteries wrapped in an enigma, fried in lard and served on french bread.
Anyway, as I told her, I'm glad I'm not a young woman nowadays, because