Hand to the heavens these are all true stories of my life in New Orleans. 1977-79 was a wonderful time to live in the French Quarter. I was working full-time as an actor (stage, radio, TV) and since that never pays anything regular, I had a part-time job as personal assistant to the publisher of a tourist magazine. So now to the storytelling:
My apartment was a two room attic above a restored (1860’s) town house. I couldn’t afford the downstairs. (starving artist, remember) The slave quarters on the other side of the garden was also a luxury apartment. But I loved my little place where when you opened the windows you could look out over the French roof tops and see just the upper structure of freighters moving slowly up the river. Late at night I would lie there with the windows open and listen to the clip-clop of the horse-drawn carriages wearily making their way back to the stables. The tenants changed out below me and my new neighbors, it turned out, was the mob boss’s nephew coming up through the ranks and his (high-end call girl) girl friend who worked at Lucky Pierre’s (a lounge and escort service). I’ll tell you more about the ‘connected guy’ later. Continue reading “My Years in the French Quarter, New Orleans! Nostalgia (part 8)”