Second — welcome to New Orleans and its “charms.”

I’ve visited the city several times under orders. Went in the wrong direction while walking to the District HQ building and ended up in the French Quarter. What a vile brew of vomit, urine, and wretched addicts. The police presence is lower during the day, and it was definitely a much scarier place. There are a lot of police around at night, protecting the tourist trade, but they’re pretty good a being unobtrusive until actually needed. One year, some genius at the District scheduled a conference during Halloween, which royally pissed off those of us who were parents. We spent the evening on Bourbon Street, right at the beginning of the gay section. I remember that bar you’re talking about, because our local hosts said the same thing about the gay section filtering out the frats.

It was an interesting evening, but I would have much more enjoyed escorting Barney the Dinosaur on her trick-or-treat rounds.

Oh, and by the way, the nickel incident at the newstand wasn’t to wave off a purchase — she wanted to keep the change.