re: Tiger Tales: True Confessions, Brushes With Fame & Infamous Tiger Escapades!

Ms. Sue's Story Time:

New Orleans - 2001

I sat on a street corner in the French Quarter sketching old buildings and pedestrians. Last night on Bourbon Street I ran out of money while partying with my best friend. I awakened this morning with the realization that I needed to eat and pay for 3 more nights at the famous India House Hostel, so I decided that I would sketch the French Quarter around St. Louis Cathedral and sell my drawings to tourists for $15 - $20 per drawing. It was around noon and I had made enough money to afford two more nights at the hostel. I needed a bit more money for a third night's stay in the hostel and for food and drink. I continued to sketch.

Soon, a couple walked by and stopped for moment to look at my drawing. They liked it and forked over a $20 bill after chatting with me about my background and upbringing in the State of Missouri. The couple walked off with my sketch and disappeared into a cafe.

I gathered my sketchbook, pencils, and backpack and walked to the back of St. Louis Cathedral to take a break and enjoy a small bowl of turtle stew that I had purchased from a street vendor.

I finished the turtle soup and decided that the small cemetery located behind the cathedral was the perfect subject for a drawing. I pulled out my sketchbook and pencils and quickly put line on paper.

A short time passed. A few tourists strolled by, each smiling or nodding approval at my dedicated work. A few wanderers made smalltalk and then carried on their merry way.

The day was hot. The French Quarter was a mess of sweaty people, each looking for the next place to grab a beer or hurricane, eat a small meal, or view masterpieces in an obscure art gallery - all wishing to escape the sun.

I turned and looked down the alley toward Jackson Square and noticed two very pretty college girls walking along the cobblestones toward me. They sat down in the shade of a cemetery tree directly across the alley from myself and fanned themselves to cool down. Sweat glistened on their skin, their hair damp from humidity. They were beautiful.

I smiled at the girls and said, "Wow...it's hot!" They both smiled and immediately began to quietly talk to each other. They giggled a couple of times.

"Do you mind if I sketch you?"

The girls looked at me and one shrugged her shoulders as if she couldn't understand me. The other girl asked me something...in French. I realized that they were foreigners and I didn't speak their language, nor they mine.

I held up my sketchbook and pointed to myself. "Artist...I'm an artist."

They nodded and seemed interested.

"Can I draw you?" I pointed to the girls and then my sketchbook.

They both smiled, straightened their posture and slightly posed. The girl who a moment before attempted to speak to me in french nodded her approval. I put line to paper. The french girls quietly giggled...

[continued]