The Pearl Restaurant, 119 Saint Charles Ave New Orleans, LA 70130
He crossed the street in mid block, jogging across like a native, knowing full well that pedestrians, especially those jaywalking, did not have the right of way in New Orleans. Almost directly across the street was the Pearl Restaurant and Oyster Bar. It was a place he favored for its fried softshell crab poboys and cold Dixie beers. As he waited to eat at the lunch counter, he pulled out his notebook and scribbled notes about his encounter on Highway 90 while it was still fresh in his mind and the information gathered at the Trade Mart.
“Why, Mr. Baillageon, what a surprise to see you here,” said the receptionist he had just met at the Trade Mart.
“What you are doing here, Miss …”
“Miss Susan Anderson, I just met you at the Trade Mart.”
“Why, yes, of course, would you care to join me for lunch?”
“If that’s not an imposition. I’m still gettin’ used to the city. I hate eating alone. I‘m not disrupting your plans?”
“No, not at all, please sit” said Woody as he stood up and moved from the lunch counter to a table. He pulled the chair for her to sit.
“New Orleans is so big and wonderful,” said Susan as he was seated. “I love eating at all these nice restaurants for lunch.”
“I always like to come here when I’m in town,” said Woody.
“I see you’ve just bought yourself a nice hat. You must’ve gone to The Glad Hatter, I’ll bet. He has such a nice selection of hats.”
“Yes, he does, but how would you know that? You have a man in your life, if you do not mind me askin’?”
“No, no, I’m single and free as a bird. Mr. Shaw buys a few hats there for gifts to foreign dignitaries and occasionally I pick them up. The French and the Japanese love cowboy hats. It’s such an interesting store. He’s bought a few of those Panama’s like you have there for some businessman from South Africa.”
“How did such a cleaver girl like you end up at the Trade Mart.”
“I found this job just by luck. I saw an ad for a secretary while I was at the business college and here I am. If it hadn’t been for that little old ad on the bulletin board, I never would have known about the job. I been here a year now. Spencer’s has a really good program for secretaries. Just about guarantee you a job if you finish. They recruit you know.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“In Lafayette,” said Susan.
“Lafayette?”
“Yes, I dated those Cajun boys from down there on bayou.”
“You didn’t marry a Boudreaux?” said Woody. “A nice college girl is lucky to get out of Lafayette and not get married.”
“No, I dated a few, but I’m the one that got away.”
“I’d say those boys were fools to let a pretty girl like you get away.”
“It’s kind of you to say so. May I call you André?”
“Please do. May I call ya Susan.”
“Why, yes, André. You may call me Susan if you can order me a cup of coffee while I look over the menu.”
Woody caught the eye of the waitress who came over. “I’ll take two cups of coffee. Make one of those without chicory. The other one, I’ll take with chicory and steamed milk. For lunch, I’ll take a softshell crab poboy. Bring a Dixie with that. And Susan, have you decided yet?”
“Yes, I’d like an egg sandwich with some bacon. I just take more coffee with the meal when it arrives.”
“Now, André, how did you know, I wanted my coffee plain? How did you ever know my preferences?”
“Anyone with an accent like yours never tasted chicory until she moved here. It’s usually an acquired taste. Just a guess.”
“You are right about the coffee and you are right about me too. Now, how is it that you come to our office on a Saturday. Please tell me what brings you to the city besides business.”
“Oh, I like to listen to some jazz every few months.”
“Dixieland?” said Susan.
“Yeah, that, but more modern tunes, too,” said Woody. “Just depends what I can find. Do you like music?”
“Oh, yes, When I moved to the city, I had never heard Jazz at all. There’s so much music here, I just listen to whatever is being played whenever I get a chance.”
“I often go to the Jung Hotel,” said Woody. “There’s a roof top garden and there’s always a band on Saturday night. Would you care to come and listen to some music?”
“You must be a jazz afficionado. Do you like any particular kind of jazz?”
“Well, there’s a dance floor at the Jung so the music is not really traditional Dixieland and certainly not bop. It’s more big band music like Benny Goodman, but sometimes it’s a combo. Ever heard any of that?”
“Why no,” said Susan. “I really don’t know the difference.”
“Well, there usually at least twelve musicians, sometimes as many as twenty, playing arrangements. Sometimes there’s a solo by the lead musician in each section. The sound is really something. Sure you wouldn’t want to hear some? A girl like you must have many beaux all wanting to see her on a Saturday night.”
“I’ve no steady and I’m free tonight, so I could meet you there, I suppose.”
“Please do, bring a friend, if you feel uncomfortable,” said Woody. “It’ll be fun to introduce y’all to some great music. We can have dinner, so bring an appetite too.”
“Well, yes, then, I’ll meet you there at . . . ”
“The band plays usually at eight, but I can meet you early if you’d like.”
“No, eight is fine. This’ll be fun. I’ve never gone to something like this, a country girl like me. I hope I’ll fit in it.”
“You’ll do just fine.”
They finalized their plans as they were eating and said goodbye on the sidewalk outside of the Pearl.