Pimp Master Flex

10 Jul

Ed has a grandiose notion of what a downtown should be. I’m not sure what he actually expects one to actually be, but he’s generally disappointed with how small they all are. Lake Charles, Louisiana was no exception.

We left New Orleans around 11am and stopped for lunch at Lake Charles, mostly because it seemed like it might be nice. We were wrong about that. We did, however, find a great place for lunch called Luna.

And that’s where it got interesting. Given that I’m travelling with Ed, my former housemate from Oxford who is British, there’s always a bit of questioning that comes when people hear his accent.

“What are you doing here, in the South?”

It’s not that they don’t like the British, more just that there really is no good reason for a Brit to visit the middle of nowhere. Our reason is somewhat strange anyway and takes too long to explain, because we don’t live where our trip started (DC), or where our trip is ending (Houston).

So, we attempt to explain it and it just causes more confusion.

Lunch today was particularly fun though. Our waitress was, shall we say, smitten, with Ed and his accent. When we explained why we stopped at this particular place (the lake), she mentioned suggestively that she was going to lay out later at the lake and maybe drink a beer, afterwhich she interrupts herself to see if we drink and how long we’ll be in the area.

After some more small talk, she interrupts Ed to let him know that she could listen to him talk all day long and, yes, that she wants him to read her a bedtime story.

Had I known I could have used Ed to get us free lodging all through the south just by having him talk to young cute waitresses, I would have pimped that fool out the entire time. Instead, I spent money on crap motels. Lame.


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