The Ways and Means to New Orleans
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I stumbled off the train at about eight p.m., weary travelers flowing all around me as they met their companions or cabs and left for destinations unknown. I was supposed to be meeting someone myself, my friend’s old roommate’s younger brother. I had never laid eyes on this boy before nor ever spoken a single word to him, yet somehow we were going to find one another in the station. I looked around the crowd searching for a youngish man who, I guessed, would also be looking like he was looking for someone. There were a lot of candidates.

I honestly couldn’t put forth much effort into the search. I had just spent the last 30 hours on the train, having left New York a virtual lifetime ago, to land sluggishly in the fabled city of New Orleans, a place, much like my potential ride, which I...

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