Two Jacks

There was no menu
at Tujague's Restaurant
on Decatur Street
in New Orleans.
Everything the
round Cajun man
in the kitchen cooked
was better than anything else
I had ever eaten.

First came a dark chicken
and sausage gumbo,
followed by shrimp salad.
My stomach was already
fuller than it had been
all vacation.

The final appetizer
was a beef brisket with horse radish.
Most of my days have less calories
than this
meal warm up.

I was already full and hadn't
even started dinner.
A breeze blew through
the open doors and windows,
bringing a Jazz tune from
the saxophonist on the corner.

A hansom cab horse stamped at flies
as he awaited a fare.
The French Quarter Thursday Night
outside was just warming up
as I had another $5.40 Dixie Beer.

The main course,
thick fillet mignon
with potatoes and broccoli
came piled high, deep,
and cholesterol laden.

My full belly made room,
and awaited
the bread pudding
with thick chocolate sauce
that was dessert.

My cell phone vibrated,
and I reached for it,
amid empty beer bottles.

"Hey"
"Hey, what are you doing?"
"Just finishing dinner."
"Where?"
"Tujague's."
"Holy crap, do you know how much it costs?"
"No there are no menus, but it doesn't seem expensive."

Two more beers,
$114.00 and a generous tip later,
my stomach wanted to knot
at the thought of my nearly empty wallet.
I staggered off to Bourbon Street,
meeting Monica at Club Oz,
to sing and dance with the party boys.

I thought how much better off
I would have been
to wait to eat until she got off from work.

I wonder if I would have been that full
if I had accepted her offer
to buy me all the
Famous Franks hot dogs
I could eat from
Ted the pushcart vendor,
who sets up next to the monument
in Jackson Square.