April 30, 2002

The following excerpts are from journal entries from the late 1990s-early 2000s.

My handwriting is shaky because I am on the bus. Sometimes I hate New Orleans. I waited 30 minutes to catch the bus down Esplanade to get to Bohn Ford to retrieve my gate card from the car. I left my house at 1:45pm. When I got there, problems were finding out information regarding the vehicle. I asked for the shuttle home, or anywhere near the Quarter, which is a service provided by the company, and she stared at me blankly, “There is nobody available today.”

I walk to the bus stop and wait another half an hour until the bus comes. I ask the driver, “Does this bus go down Esplanade?” The driver concurs with a nod. The bus is full of children because there are no school buses in this town. I notice after a while, the bus is going in the opposite direction of Esplanade. I ask the driver again about the direction we are going in. He then replies that the bus does not go down Esplanade. So I sit, waiting for it to turn around and go back to the start.

It is now 4:05pm. Can you say low blood sugar? Sometimes I hate New Orleans…

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