"I'm votin' for Obama 'cause homie is malleable"

For the past two days, I've come home from work covered in soot. I get stares walking down Canal and on the street car. One young man was undeterred by the "Whatever you're selling I'm not buying" expression on my face, and tried politely but persistently to get my phone number, but I think most people were a bit deterred by the Cinderalla-esque smudges on my face (and I mean pre-fairy godmother). But despite the dirt and dirty looks, I've been quite pleased with myself.
This week I've been on fire clean up. There was some sort of electrical explosion at the office for Tipitina's French Quarter (seemingly a computer monitor) and although the fire damage was minimal, the ash blew all through the office, and there was a some water damage too. All the knick knacks, pictures and documents that accumulate in an office over a decade or say had to be taken out, assessed for damages and cleaned up if salvageable.
It was pure chance that I ended up helping out. Someone was needed to wipe down the pictures on Tuesday, and my computer wasn't working, so I was the chosen one. Inwardly, I'll admit I grumbled a bit, once I was sitting downstairs with washrags and soap and water, I remembered how peaceful cleaning can be. So, when asked if I minded helping out again the next day, I was actually happy to volunteer. The rest was dusty, sweaty history.

Besides the break from being a desk jockey (I need to avoid a 9-5 at all costs when I grow up because by 2 pm I'm always itching to go move), I had lots of time to get to know Joseph, who works downstairs, and has been something of an enigma for the past few weeks. We bonded over hard labor, and I let him bond a little extra by lifting the heavy things. Meanwhile, he told me about his childhood in Miami, and his opinions on everything from not-so-legal substances and underage drinking to politics (the quote in the title is courtesy of him). He thinks I should come back and run for mayor of New Orleans one day. Or teach. I told him we'll see.

Meanwhile, hard labor? Not so hard. Or at least it's easier to stay awake.