So, I found myself on Cape Cod with no real sense of purpose... Unsure of myself, unsure of my future, and unsure of my life. The dark grays of the North Atlantic on winter's edge seemed to echo something within me. I cruised along the scenic route along the beaches of the cape, through the dunes and along the blacktop in a kind of personal fog.
Still, the realities of my existence kicked in, and I found a room for the night at a quaint little inn in Orleans. "The Ship's Knees inn" is one of those picturesque New England inns you see on the travel channel. Very weathered, on a hill, and just oozing with charm.
Plus that, it's only five minutes from the beach.
I caught the inn during it's off season, which meant that it was really just me and the innkeepers. I was actually surprised that I was able to find such a place during the off-season, as most of their competitors simply close up after the summer. It was owned by this really nice couple, the Butchers, who live on the property with their family. They were great at pointing me toward local eateries and attractions, and for the first night since Katrina hit, I got a really great night's sleep there.
Truth is, I envy their lifestyle. Long before I came to New Orleans, I had always sworn to myself that the way I would someday retire was to have a little New England inn of my very own, and I always envisioned it much like the Ship's Knees. Part home, part hotel, and just generally a fun place to live and work. Slow enough in the off season months to keep you sane, busy enough in the on season to keep you comfortable.
The next day, I went to the beach and saw a seal. At first, I thought it was a plesiosaur... I have never seen seals in their natural environment, after all... And the black head popping up in the north Atlantic took me aback a bit. I realized how stupid I had been and got back into the car, headed across Massachusetts toward upstate New York, feeling renewed, with one thought in my mind: How great it would be to own my own inn.
But where? How? Was this the answer I had been looking for?
2 comments:
Oh Great Webkahunah, Don't run away to New England just yet. Come back to New Orleans. Re-enroll at U.N.O. or Delgado. Learn the intricacies of running a hotel.
You're still young and Cute too. Meet a nice woman and date her. You never know, you might get lucky. (Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge)
Then the 2 of you can run your little cottage inn by the ocean together. And does it have to be New England? Virginia and Georgia are nice and a lot less Snowy. And you'd have a longer "Season" you'd be open for. And just think of the different styles of Cooking you could offer. New York and New Orleans.
I know it's your life and your decision, but I wanted you to know that one of your New Orleans friends would rather have you here than there.
man you r so full of shit.
do u really think peeps give a shit what u think?
aahhh ur bro sucks cock and takes it up the bum. yeeeeusssee
it all makes sense now lmfao
ur all freaks!!!!
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