|Steve Allen Bourbon Streeet Blues|
| A novel needs a good first paragraph. How about this one?
Bourbon Street Blues
It was late. Seems like it's always late when I'm down in the Quarter. Servers me right for taking a 5-night-a-weeker on Bourbon. Anyway, I had just gotten off and was hauling my tired body and my horns back to my regular great free parking spot on Royal near the 8th District Police station. Pretty safe and convenient spot, usually. I watch my back anyway on the dark and desolate streets of these wee hours to see if any night predator has changed course in my direction. Just cause I'm paranoid, it doesn't mean somebody's not really out to get me. After work, tired, with 7 grand in axes on my back and a small wad of fresh lettuce in my pocket, I could be considered easy prey. I'm not easy prey though. I'm just too much of a cityboy to let some bottom feeder get over on me.