Mandalay, visiting family in New Orleans, agreed to waste some of her time with me, Will, DHK, and various assorted friends and acquaintances (including Elle). It was a delight. The disparity that exists between our various personas isn’t novel, but it has clearly become more overtly baffling since the Internet enabled the creation and development and presentation of an almost entirely edited, contrived iteration of the self. Or: Mandalay seemed surprised by what a filthy bastard I am, while I was happy to find her laid-back, funny, witty, and adventurous.
Above, eating a late, late dinner at Jacques-Imo’s. Following are some photos of her visit, more of which are in this photoset.
Above: note that Mandalay is not impressed if you explain that you “cannot dance due to leg injuries of an undiagnosed nature.”
Note that Mandalay is impressed with DHK’s capacity for lexical invention, including his introduction of the phrase “fat man’s candy,” meaning (1) cheese, (2) cash-money, or (3) candy. It is best used in business settings to refer to either revenue or the so-called ‘low-hanging fruit’ you’ll pluck before sinking back into useless bureaucratic stasis.
Above: Will, Mandalay, and me in front of St. Joe’s.
See also: “Alligator cheesecake” and fried grits, and the fried-roast-beef-poboy she referred to when posting this incredibly lifelike pen-and-ink drawing of me.
