July 14, 2012 by chl4393
life on the edge
Eating while driving should not be legal. No text message is as distracting or dangerous as the tomato tart I ate while driving to this coffee shop. I was so focused on it that I know I was a menace on the road. It was a savory flaky pastry with a tomato slice and pesto and ricotta and Parmesan cheese. Probably one of the most delicious foods I’ve eaten here, and that’s saying a lot considering how much and how well I’ve eaten. But I started the drive by almost backing over a biker, and then I had a lot of trouble keeping my eyes on the road with that pastry in my hand.
But maybe that’s not as bad as when I was running on the streetcar tracks this afternoon, and almost got run down by the streetcar. I always stay on the left side so I can see them coming, but I must have been thinking hard about something because I didn’t notice it until it was bearing down on me and the driver was honking or whistling or whatever noise a streetcar makes. I had my iPod in, so I don’t exactly know. The driver looked annoyed but I can’t imagine why…
When I think back on today, that’s what stands out: the tomato tart and being almost run over by the St. Charles streetcar.
Today New Orleans celebrated Bastille Day as well as The Running of the Bulls, but I wasn’t able to join in the festivities for either. Bastille Day is the anniversary of the event credited for sparking the French Revolution: the storming of the Bastille prison in Paris. Since the first European settlers in New Orleans were French, this city celebrates France’s independence nearly as enthusiastically as America’s. Our market had a string trio, a book signing and samples of French baguettes to mark the occasion, but since I was busy with SEED I didn’t get to enjoy any of that.
And the Running of the Bulls, which parallels a festival in Spain, started at 8am, so work prevented me from participating in that as well. The Running of the Bulls consists of hordes of drunk people wearing white and red running through the city streets while being whacked with wiffle bats by girls on roller skates. The girls represent the bulls, and getting hit with a wiffle bats is equivalent to getting gored. It’s pretty funny, so I was sad I wasn’t even able to watch it. We got a lot of drunk runners wandering into the market, though, which was good for business at least.