true romance

My French Quarter balcony in New Orleans typically provides a front row seat to all manner of intrigue. This evening, it was no different. -Hot girl in a bikini walks down street holding to-go container of dinner. -Hot guy in reflective vest emptying nearby garbage can hollers: “Hey. You have a boyfriend?” -Her: “Yeah, he’s at home right back there.” -Him: “He doesn’t mind if you walk around in that outfit?” -Her: “Well, I’m mad at him...” She looks over her shoulder, he finishes his task, and they walk off together into the steamy southern night. We are all bikini girl.