DeRidder, Louisiana. Work install trip.
I’m not that tempted by catfish, but I’m willing to try alligator. Go figure. I guess I’ll probably end up on the safe side with fried shrimp. The alligator’s pretty chewy.
“What are the stuffed shrimp stuffed with?” “Oh, anything we find lying around.”
I suppose I’ll be done early tomorrow; not early enough to get a flight out of Houston, but maybe early enough to get there and wait for a flight in the morning.
I sorta like crawdads once I’ve torn them apart, but they’re too much work, and too messy. Yep, shoulda had the small order of crawdads — stuffed shrimp sounded good at the time, but not during. I told the women I was working with today that if I lived in New Orleans I’d look like Paul Prudhomme. They caught the joke.
Tempting, also, were the strip clubs on the way in here — right outside a military base, of course there are tattoo shops. But how many tattoos can they give to drunken jarheads before they get bored with the whole business?
I found out that Beauregard is a “dry parish.” Interesting — I didn’t really need a beer, but I coulda drunk one.