Lucky Orleans

“Kristy! What the hell are you doing?” I yell as she rummages through my dresser and throws my clothes into a suitcase. She looks up and smirks, “We’re finally leaving this place!” I laugh hysterically, “You realize I have a job and responsibilities right?” I watch as Kristy closes the suitcase and grabs a duffle bag. Moving to a different drawer, she looks up, “So? This is everything we’ve dreamed about. We can finally move to Italy!” I’m so confused right now! How can we just pack up and leave? As if reading my mind, she throws a little black book on the bed.

All I can do is laugh, “So your solution is we become prostitutes? Aren’t little black books where men keep the names of their women?” Kristy stands up and grabs the book off the bed, “First of all smart ass, not all black books are for sexcapades. Just open it.” She shoves the book into my hands. I feel the worn, leather binding, which appears classy and expensive. Feeling the rough edges of the pages, “Where did you find this?” Kristy zips the duffle bag and moves to another suitcase, “Veronica! Will you just open it already?” I shake my head and take a deep breath, “Fine.” Opening to the first page, I see a bunch of numbers. I keep flipping the pages, which are again, full of numbers. I look up, “What do these numbers mean Rain Man?” She laughs, “Don’t be a dick.” She stops packing and sits on the bed. A huge smile emerges and she appears almost giddy. I haven’t seen her this motivated in a long time. She continues, “About a week ago, I was washing the floor near the lockers at the train station and came across a loose tile. I picked up the tile and found this book. I started flipping through it. At first, it just looked like random numbers, but I watch enough movies and crime shows to know that it’s probably a code of some sort.” I laugh, “Maybe you watch too many movies and crime shows. Just sayin because you’re sounding a little manic.”

She balls up a shirt and throws it at me. “Anyway! I have been doing some research to think of all the codes that I’ve seen in movies. I realized the numbers were coordinates. So over the past week, I wrote down all the places the numbers matched and tried to figure out what it meant.” Enthralled in her story, I find myself sitting on the bed as well, “So what does it mean?” She stands up and hands me her phone, “New Orleans?” She smiles, “Yes! We are heading to New Orleans. The coordinates were names of cities, countries, and states. It didn’t make any sense, so I took the first letter of each one, which spelled out New Orleans. The second grouping of coordinates spelled out French Quarter. After the first four pages, there were coordinates to a blues lounge.” Handing her the phone back, “And then what? We just show up at some lounge and ask for Bob?” She leans down, “Not Bob, but there were directions stating we give a password to the bartender.” Rolling my eyes, “So you are packing up our lives to go on some wild goose chase?” Kristy snaps back quickly, “It is not a wild goose chase! Can you just trust me? Take a leap of faith. The book says our dreams will come true. Who knows what that means, but why not try?”

I stand up from the bed and tell her, “Alright, we will go.” She runs to where I’m standing, squeals and gives me a huge hug. “Perfect! We leave in about 2-hours,” she exclaims. What the fuck! I choke on my own saliva, “That’s crazy!” She laughs, “The book says we have to be there by 7pm. No time like the present right?” Kristy is lucky that I’ve known her half my life, otherwise I would swear she was crazy. Trying to be rational, I tell her, “Well, stop packing everything. Let’s just pack the things we need for this mini-trip and see what happens.”

As we pick up our two bags and head downstairs, I am reminded why we became friends. Kristy is the random and exciting one, whereas I’m the more logical, level-headed one. Our 15-years of friendship has definitely been a roller-coaster, but this is by far the craziest thing that we have done. Getting into the Uber, we head toward the airport. I look over at her, “You know, you are the only one who can talk me into a random adventure like this.” She smiles and holds onto her bag a little tighter.

Arriving at the airport, we check-in. As we are handed our tickets, it says that we are in first class. I look at Kristy, “You put us in first class?” She snatches the ticket, “Definitely not!” I look back at the person behind the counter, “Is this a mistake?” The woman shakes her head no, “You both have been upgraded.” Confused, I grab the tickets back, “Thank you!” Kristy turns to me, “I knew this book was lucky!”

Heading toward the terminal, we don’t say much. She finally breaks the silence, “Thanks for doing this. I know it sounds crazy, but I have this feeling that it’s the right thing and will be everything we’ve hoped for.” I laugh, “You and your damn feelings. Either way, I’ve only been to New Orleans once and you know I love blues music!” Sitting down at the terminal, I watch as Kristy pulls out the book. As she flips through the pages, I ask, “So, what’s the name of the blues lounge? And what’s the password?” Kristy looks around as if trying to be discreet, “It’s called Smooth King and the password is la baise.” Shocked, I snicker, “You realize Smooth King sounds like a stripper right?” She pulls out her phone, “Yeah, I know. I actually looked it up to make sure it was legit.” I grab her phone and look through the website. “What does la baise mean?” She clears her throat, “That one is a little more inappropriate. In French, it means sex.” I put my head between my hands and laugh hysterically.

As I try to gain my composure, I ask, “Let me get this straight, we are going down to New Orleans, to a blues lounge called Smooth King, to basically give the bartender the password sex?” Kristy did not seem as amused. She replies, “Look, I know it seems crazy, but what’s the worst that could happen?” I turn to face her, “You’re the crime expert, what’s the worst that could happen?” Kristy put her hand on my arm, “Please just trust me. Plus, the word sex is in French, so it sounds a little classier. Maybe the bartender doesn’t actually know what the word means.” We both giggle.

First class definitely has its perks as we have only been sitting for about 15-minutes and its already time to board. As we sit down in our seats, a flight attendant brings over champagne, “It’s complimentary.” I whisper to Kristy, “Well, I wasn’t planning on sitting in first class or having champagne, so this nap to New Orleans will be even better!” I slowly close my eyes as we wait for others to board.

I feel a nudge at my elbow, “Wake up, we’re here!” I feel like I literally just closed my eyes. Stretching and yawning a little bit, I look out the window. It looks beautiful! I look down at my watch, 6:15pm. I inform Kristy, “We have 45-minutes to get to the Smooth King.” She smiles, “No problem, I already ordered the Uber.” As we land, there is a slight bump, but nothing too intense. The seatbelt sign goes off and we stand up to get our bags. Leaving the plane and then the terminal, we look at the signs for the exit. Kristy points and says, “The Uber will pick us up at luggage claim. We have 30-mins. We will make it!” Luckily, the airport isn’t as big as the one in Chicago, so we made it through in about 10-minutes. Walking outside, we spot our Uber driver and head toward the car.

As we get in the car, Kristy says, “We are cutting it close, but we got this!” Traffic wasn’t too bad. As we pull up to the lounge at 6:52pm, I can feel my heart racing. This has definitely been an exciting day! Kristy takes lead and opens the door. Following her inside, I close my eyes briefly as I hear the sounds of a guitar strumming and smell cigar smoke.

Walking toward the bar, she sits down and waits for the bartender to approach. He puts down a coaster, “What will you have?” Kristy looks at him and says, “La Baise.” He chuckles, “Well, well, you must be Kristy.” She looks at me tilting her head, then back to the bartender. “Yes, I am,” she replies hesitantly. He turns toward the register to grab a key and a note. “There you go,” he says handing it to her. Opening the note, I read over her shoulder. “Kristy, every time I come to Chicago, I have watched you be kind to strangers and clean up after horrible people. You have always been especially sweet to me. Here is a key to La Baise. The club is now yours. Inside, you will find everything you need. Sincerely, Marcus.” I turn to Kristy, “Who the fuck is Marcus?” Kristy shrugs, “I have no idea!” The bartender turns around and picks up his phone to show us a picture. Kristy points and replies, “Oh, he’s such a nice man. He comes through Chicago every few weeks.” The bartender puts his elbows down and leans over the counter, “He is actually a very wealthy man and owns half this town. La Baise is his pride and joy. It’s a sex club down the street. Guess you must’ve done something right.”

Kristy and I look at each other, trying not to sound too excited, we stand up and leave the lounge. I yell back to the bartender, “Thank you!” He gives us a salute as we head out. I take out my phone and plug in the address. It’s about a 5-minute walk. We start heading toward the club in silence, but I ask, “Let me get this straight, so you’ve never slept with him and you barely know him?” Tears start flowing down her face, “Right. We always made small talk about his trips or discussed TV shows, but never anything important.” I pat her on the arm as we approach the club, “Ah, that makes sense why he made it into a game!” Kristy faces the door and inserts the key. She slowly opens the door. Inside, there is a pile of money in the middle of the floor with another note. We both instantly drop our suitcases and run over to the pile. “There must be at least a million dollars here,” I shriek. I look over her shoulder as she reads the note, “Kristy, I know this is strange, but I think you are amazing. The club is a well-oiled machine, but it’s yours to do with as you please. The deed is in the desk drawer. The money will help you along the way with whatever you need. The address on the back of this paper is also in your name. Hopefully you and your friend will like it. I will stop by in a few days to check-in. Enjoy and embrace what you deserve. Sincerely, Marcus.” I slap her on the arm, “Girl, whoever this guy is, you better marry his ass!” Although shaking, she wraps her arms around me tightly, “I knew the little black book was good luck. Welcome to our new home!”