I have a crush on the girls of New Orleans. Not the bachelorette parties lurching around in their heels and sashes, or the moms partying in their beer pedicabs although they have their place (I guess?) and aren’t hurting anyone or anything but their livers and probably their wallets.
The chicks, I guess you’d say. The cyclist riding her bike through a sudden downpour, me on the sidewalk getting soaked, her cruising by, both of us grinning when we made eye contact. The mulleted walker in pink sunglasses. The taco stand clerk, saying Y’all look so familiar, both of us cracking up when I admitted I’d never been there before.
There are tons of cool girls of all ages, and a lot of them call me baby and smile and take a little extra care. It’s not me, it’s women taking care of women, I think.
Seeing each other and making space.
In this chauvinistic world, it feels pretty great.
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