Stepping On Crazy-Toe's Toes
I once read that New Orleans is a non-fiction writer's dream, because you can't make stuff up that's better than what actually happens there. As a former resident and near-annual visitor, I can attest to the truth of that statement. In time, I'll share some experiences to help you see why.
Since today marks the first Saturday of the famed 8-day New Orleans Jazz Fest, I'll console myself for missing it by sharing a memory from years past. This story actually begins at the end... the end of a day spent at the festival. After indulging in all that attracts so many from so far, it was time to catch a cab home.
Our group was big enough to warrant a van, which we shared with a couple headed to the same part of town. They seemed quite nice. The woman wore the kind of sun dress found in pricey boutiques, which she'd managed to keep looking as crisp and clean as a brand new day. Even her chic-styled hair was still in place — No easy feat after a day dancing in swamp heat. It was clear that this was a woman who cared deeply about the impression she made on others.
Someone from our group engaged our fellow passengers with a friendly hello, and the well-kempt woman responded in kind. "I have six toes," she said by way of introduction. Then she propped a dirty, bare foot over the back of our seat to prove it.
We were like a team of biologists who'd just discovered the platypus for the first time — suddenly nothing was easily classified. We reacted to this interesting development by launching into an interview.
"Can you wiggle it?"
"Is there a support group for your kind?"
"How do you know which little piggy ran all the way home?"
Everyone in the van was curious about the bonus toe. Everyone except the driver, that is. I couldn't begin to imagine the scenes he's seen, and the spectacle of the six-toed woman didn't get a bit of a rise out of him. He stayed silent in the front, absorbed in his Billie Holiday tunes until we reached our destination.
"OK, that'll be five bucks a piece," he said. "Except for you," he told Crazy-toe, pointing to her in the rear view mirror. "For you, the fare is Six."
Nice to know the driver was really listening. I have often used cabbies, especially in foreign countries, to get the scoop I need for food, "entertainement" and such..they know everything.
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Yes, imagine the scoop he would've been able to share with the next passenger ... "Five bucks and I'll take you to see this chic with six toes." Bet it's a real moneymaker.
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This one is my favorite so far!!
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