A nice blend of humor and drama surrounded by the mystique of New Orleans French Quarter. Jared and his friends find fun and trouble as they explore the area during a company convention.
Jared escapes his mundane life to join his friends in the unique environment of New Orleans French Quarter. His friends are co-workers who attend the conference as well to escape the average lives they lead. Among the rigorous schedule of the company meetings, they find a unique culture filled with fun,excitement and danger. The trouble may be too much for several who strive to find a way out of the mystique of the French Quarters.
Excerpt
Colt screams across the lobby that Jared needs to leave his political needs at home and get in gear for some drinking. The middle school banter continues as the group walks into the Quarters. Barry is stunned as they pass Jackson square.
“Do people really trust homeless people with tarot cards?” He inquires. “What is wrong with this nation?”
“Everything, as far as I’m concerned.” Stephen is about to find his soapbox.
“Wow, you speak.” Colt indicates that Stephen has been very quiet.
“Just because you have a skill doesn’t mean it pays well enough to have a financially full life.” Stephen begins his soapbox.
“Ok group, a little help here. Are you insinuating that the Tarot cards are a skill? Even if they are, do you think that woman has skill?” Barry has the stance and competes with Stephen for the soapbox speech. He has mumbled for long periods when he delivers his morality speeches.
“Absolutely no soapbox speeches will be given today Barry. She believes she is offering a useful product and it’s not for us to judge.” Annie is the mediator. The lady with the Tarot cards sneer at them. They were not aware she could hear the conversation. She pauses with her customer and fans the smoke from her incense toward them.
“Did you see what she did?” Barry stands in awe. “Why did she push that smoke toward us? Is that a curse?”
“She reads Tarot cards dumbass. She isn’t a witch.” Annie snaps out the first response before the others can bash him.
“None of you deserve a response. Let’s drop the Tarot lady and have a good time. Its Bourbon Street bitches!” Colt raises his arms up as if he scores a touchdown knowing this night of fun is right up his alley.
For once the group agrees with Colt. They turn toward Canal Street when the Tarot lady appears in front of Barry. “What is your problem with me?” Barry looks frightened and will not answer her. Her face is weathered and she doesn’t smell well. She hisses and it sends chills down Barry. He walks quickly and watches over his shoulder until she is out of sight. His conservative childhood makes him very paranoid of anything psychic. He continues to ramble about her till the group insists he doesn’t speak.
The energy and noise steer them to the right and they are only blocks from Bourbon. “Hey guys give me a second.” Stan points toward the tourist equivalent of a convenience store. T-shirts line the windows with quotes most people could never wear in public. Everything has a reference to drinking, sex or Mardi gras.
Barry reads a few of the shirts in the window. “Let the comments begin, but I don’t feel comfortable. Can someone give me clear directions back to the hotel?” Barry looks pale and frustrated.
Spoken Word
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