Betty Duffy

Thursday, October 20, 2011


A weekend is a fair amount of time to spend with people, enough time to exhaust the finer points of conversation, have a grand old time, and then depart before everybody is sick of my sh*t.

One person on this trip was prematurely sick of me, however, and I write about him, because this trip log would be terribly boring if not a single villain made an appearance.

On a sunny Friday morning, Dorian and I sat in the courtyard of the Prytania Park hotel researching the finer points of Ashton and Demi's demise because, for some reason, we decided it was applicable to the rest of our talk. I wouldn't say we were speaking too loudly, and yet, from behind the door nearest our table, a man in a leg brace came out and gave us a dirty look.

It was unclear exactly what his look meant. Did it mean, "Darn it, it's morning?" Did it mean, "Tell me again why I have this ace bandage wrapped around my knee?" We couldn't be sure. So we kept doing what we were doing.

Time passed, and the man emerged again, this time rather huffily to say, "Gals…can you keep it down, please? People are sleeping."

Gals? Gals?

I said, "Hello, it's noon…in Indiana." Though truly, it was not quite noon in New Orleans. And the man went back into his room. Dorian and I had no choice but to choose a different table. Gals? I can't remember for certain if he threw in a passive aggressive please, but the whole bit was a politeness power play. Much like this:

I'm telling you, it's crazy the way some people behave in New Orleans.


James said...

He should have called you ma'am instead of a gal. Gals are young.

BettyDuffy said...

James, what are you doing on my blog? I'm calling your mother.

ElizabethK said...

Maybe hearing about Demi and Ashton made him feel testy and sad. Not everyone can take these Hollywood breakups.

JMB said...

At least it wasn't YOOOZ GUYZ! Oh I forgot, you weren't in Jersey:)

Dorian Speed said...

You know, it's so weird, because there I was, Googling for images of Justin Timberlake in a red vest, and the guy walks by and is all "They're AT IT again!" like we're not doing vital, important work or something. He must not have looked over my shoulder.