Janet,
a friend, came to pick me up for lunch. We met our friend Sarah at
Café Des Amis in Breaux Bridge. En route, I gave Janet the
book China Dolls, by Lisa See. She may read it quickly or return it
to the library and check it out under her own name. As noted earlier,
Ms. Lydia brought it to me last week. I thought that Janet, who is of
part Asian extraction, would enjoy this story of three Asian girls in
San Francisco just before and during World War II. She has mentioned
enjoying books by this author.
I
enjoyed my alligator sausage and savory cheesecake with crawfish
cream sauce. I even shared it out and got to taste Janet’s
fried eggplant with crawfish topping and Sarah’s grilled crab
cakes. The white chocolate bread pudding was good. The outing was
sort of a pre–birthday lunch for me. It was so thoughtful of
them to ask me where I’d like to go. I can’t take the
Paratransit van there, and I’ve wanted to visit this popular
local eatery for years.
I
thought I should take a moment here to explain a bit more about our
Paratransit service and the art of scheduling rides. It’s a bit
tricky to schedule such rides, because you have to allow for the
15–minute window on either side of the pickup time. You also
have to allow for traffic. I usually allow 30 minutes before an
appointment time, or 45 minutes for longer distances. I try to
schedule two weeks ahead, although friends of mine hate this kind of
planning and will take a cab rather than lose spontaneity.
Spontaneity is nice, but cabs are expensive and can be unreliable. I
use them as a last resort.
Back
home, I ordered my medications from Northside Pharmacy, which I seem
to do quite frequently, now, as medications do not run out at the
same time during the month. I should remember to make the folks there
something over the Christmas holidays. My New York City friend told
me that he usually tips his delivery people. I might go broke tipping
on so many deliveries.
I
emailed the following item to the DearReader writers’ contest.
“Of
Rainy Days, Library School, Guide Dogs, and Police Cars”
“We
understand you were taken to class in a police car?” the
Jeopardy auditions coordinator inquired. I hoped that this bit of
contestant trivia would put me over the top and land me a spot as one
of the few blind contestants to have ever appeared on Jeopardy. So I
took a deep breath and began the tale.
The
sky had been hemorrhaging rain all morning, and it was rapidly
approaching 12:30. If I were not to be late, I’d have to start
out for my afternoon LIS7002 reference class soon. It was my first
semester of graduate school, and I really did not want to start by
skipping a 90–minute lecture class because of monsoon–like
conditions. I had worked so hard on cultivating a good impression,
even recently wearing a linen blazer and raw silk tie to the
orientation for newly matriculated Library and Information Science
students despite the heat and suffocating humidity of a Louisiana
summer.
I explained to Nader
that even though he came equipped with webbed paws and a double coat
that made him able to swim and quasi–waterproof, I thought it
best he remain inside and consider taking a siesta near the apartment
couch. He never liked wearing a raincoat and hated getting his tires
wet. He yawned and decided that I had an excellent idea. He was never
up for being damp in air conditioning under a desk.
Clad
in a cheap green plastic rain poncho, I started out, clumsily
maneuvering my white cane like a nervous mine sweeper. The Amazonian
rainfall made it hard to hear ambient sounds that could cue me to my
environment. I walked; suddenly, I slipped on a chunk of sidewalk. I
knew I was broken! I landed. I seemed to be in one piece and got up.
I walked some more but realized I had walked too long and missed a
turning. I heard the enclosed echoes of an entrance. I gladly betook
my sodden self inside.
A
female voice wondered if she might help me. I inquired as to my
coordinates. GPS had not been imagined yet. I learned,
topographically speaking, that I had discovered the LSU Campus
Security post by the campanile. I was offered a ride to class. I took
it.
I
was startled while riding in the back to realize that the door
handles were missing. I pointed this out to the driver, and she
laughed. “Baby, don’t you know this is a police car?”
she asked. I then scrunched down in my seat to avoid being
recognized!
I
made it to class only seven minutes late, but I was a soggy, squishy
mess.
(Mild
applause was heard, and I wondered if I had been chosen for the
actual game in Los Angeles.)
