Love Stories on a Train to New Orleans.

On a long distance train to New Orleans, a tiny wizened old Mexican guy with a red and black treeloppers shirt came and sat next to me “to keep me from being bored.” How sweet I thought – until I saw the lecherous 100 year old glint in his Yogi style eye

After pleasantries and a brief swap of stories, he informed me that because I was only in New Orleans for just a few days I was invited to live with him because he’s never at home and I could have the place to myself.

“You are welcome,” he said “you can walk around and eat... and have a shower “ he added.

When he turned to look at the waitress’s bum I pulled out my faux 4 carat ring and plugged it onto my finger. I didn’t care if my finger would turn that breezy shade of gangrene green again or that I wasn’t engaged in any capacity whatsoever. I was even able to insert “my fiancé is meeting me in New Orleans” just after “you are a sweet girl’ and just before "I can take care of you".

Though after his creaking hormones had died down, he told me a touching story about a girl he once met who I reminded him of “with the same green in her eyes.”

They knew each other for just a few months. She was sick, she had back pain, pills and depression. Her boyfriend “who was from the land of the England” didn’t care and would shrug off her tears.

“But I, I used to clean her eyes” he said a faraway look in his eye.

Apparently she’d asked God to send her somebody to take care of her. “And that was me”, he said, his eyes glistening, a proud punch to his chest. He never dropped a touch of alcohol himself he insisted but from the little asides he let slip, I gleaned she used to drink like a fish.

One night she asked him to drink wine with her and he looked into her green eyes and agreed. They got drunk together and at one stage of the night, she had him down on all fours then literally rode him as though he were a horse. “It was the best night of my life” he smiled. “She was my great love” he said finally.

Love it seems is such a different animal for all of us. I liked that notion. 

He’d never kissed her, never touched her accept to wipe away her tears and yet she is the one he remembers. The great love of his life.

“She took too many pills and she drank the alcohol” he said. “And she died. She died on the 13^th of this month. Tomorrow” he said. "I think about her around this time.”