“Michael, take a quick break,” the assistant manager said as he perused the handwritten confirmation number. “I see. Give me just a moment. I think I may know what the problem is. Your last name, sir?” He picked up a phone and dialed a number.
“Pendleton. Avery B.”
“Thank you,” the assistant manager replied. “Ah, yes,” he said into the phone after a few moments. “Do you have a reservation for a guest under the name of Pendleton? I see. Yes. Thank you very much.” He hung up the phone. “You see, Mr. Pendleton, this is actually quite common. This is the Royal Sonesta. However, you made your reservation with the Sonesta Royale. It’s not all that far from here, and while I like to take the high road when discussing our competitors, I highly recommend you avoid that particular inn. It’s quite, uh, how would you say? Rather rustic.”
“How rustic?” Avery glared down at Ziggy, who had hidden himself behind his lawn sack.
“Well, suffice to say, the rats are terribly unrefined, the mold on the walls is less than fresh, and running water can only be guaranteed if you have a room on the top floor during a rainstorm. Other than that, it’s a bit unpolished.” Ziggy slunk even lower behind his sack as Avery’s face began to turn purple. “However,” the assistant manager continued, “I may be able to acquire suitable accommodations for you here. Just give me a second.” The man began typing into his reservation computer. “Yes, wonderful,” he announced after a few moments. “We’ve had a late cancellation. How long were you planning on staying?”
“Through the end of the conference,” Avery replied.
“Excellent. Are both of you thoracic surgeons?”
“Like, we’re not with that conference, man,” Ziggy replied from behind his sack. “We’re, like, with the other one.”
“I wasn’t aware there was another conference in town this week?” the assistant manager replied.
“Never mind,” Avery interrupted. “This room you have available. You’ll of course honor our price guarantee of twenty-nine dollars per night?” Avery asked.
“Twenty-nine dollars?” the flabbergasted man replied. “Sir, this is one of the finest hotels in New Orleans. The rate is two hundred and twenty-nine dollars per night, and that’s with me giving you a discounted rate, given the confusion in your reservations.”
“Highway robbery!” Avery spat.
“Sir, it’s a very fair rate.”
“I know your type. You’re no doubt working in conjunction with the other establishment to artificially manipulate and raise prices through a sophisticated bait-and-switch scam. I shall immediately report you to the appropriate federal authorities, you chiseling swine!”
“Sir, I’m only trying to help.”
“Right. Help line your pockets with the money of your defrauded customers, you charlatan swindler! Ziggy. Grab the bags. We’re departing this den of double-dealing con artists!” Avery shouted loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. “Take care to watch your wallets and purses!” Avery ranted as he headed for the main doors. “They’ll give you the shaft and rob you blind in this palace of shysters!”
Ziggy looked up at the assistant manager and shrugged his shoulders, as if to apologize. “Like, can you help us out with like some directions to our hotel, man?” Ziggy asked. The assistant manager scratched a quick map on the back of Ziggy’s piece of paper containing their confirmation number and handed it back to him.
“Best of luck,” the man said as he watched Ziggy run through the hotel lobby after Avery with the roller bag in one hand and dragging the lawn sack across the slick marble floor with his other.
“Beware of the misleading flimflam artists who operate this hovel!” Avery continued as he marched out of the front of the hotel and onto Bourbon Street. “Rogues of the most degenerate nature are on staff here! Crooks of the most despicable character…” Avery suddenly stopped his bellowing as he realized no one was paying any attention to him. In fact, the throngs of people meandering up and down the sidewalks were, for all intents and purposes, intentionally ignoring the obnoxious, portly man in the yellow tracksuit sporting an unruly tangle of brown hair and unkempt beard.
“Like, chill out, man,” Ziggy said as he caught up with Avery. “I, like, got the lowdown on how to, like, get us to the hotel.”
“Lead the way. And remember, I hold you personally responsible for this fiasco.”
“Like, don’t worry, man. It can’t be as bad as, like, that guy said and stuff.”
Twenty minutes and one stop to load up on Mountain Dew later, Avery and Ziggy found themselves walking through a decidedly un-touristy part of New Orleans. Boarded-up doors, broken windows, and the occasional burned-out storefront had replaced the open, welcoming doors and windows of the heart of the French Quarter. The few people who were out on the street or sitting in the shade of the dilapidated buildings cast curious glances at Avery and Ziggy. Even the occasional stray dog that crossed their path didn’t know what to make of the two obviously out-of-place travelers.
“I’m running out of what little patience I have left, Ziggy. Where in damnation is this place?”
“It’s, like, got to be right around here, man,” Ziggy replied as he turned his primitive map upside down and looked back down the street they had just come from.
“Give me the map!” Avery demanded as he ripped the small piece of paper from Ziggy’s hands. Avery pondered over the hastily scribbled directions. “Nothing but gibberish, you good-for-nothing insolent little fool of a pigmy.”
“Now, what you two fine gentlemen looking for?” a voice asked from the shadows of a stoop behind them.
“None of your business,” Avery replied to the voice without looking.
“Come on now,” the voice replied. “I can tell you just about everything. Sho ’nuff. In fact, my tied-dyed little friend, I can tell you something special about you right now.”
“Like, what, dude?” Ziggy asked the lanky black man wearing a plaid vest and timeworn black bowler hat as he stepped out from the shadows.
“Like what?” the man asked. “Like how about dem shoes you got on.”
“Like, my shoes?” Ziggy looked down at his sandaled feet.
“Yeah, brother. Like, about dem shoes you got on,” the man said as he removed his bowler and fanned his face with it. “For ten dollars, I can tell you where you got dem shoes.”
“Like, I don’t even know where I got them, man.”
“That’s the point, my man. Everyone should know where they got they shoes. You got ten dollars on you?”
“Like, I don’t know, man,” Ziggy said nervously.
“Come on now,” the man implored. “I know you got ten dollars on you, and I’ll bet you ten dollars of mine that I can tell you exactly where you got ’em.”
“Well, like, okay, dude.” Ziggy pulled out a ten-dollar bill from his shorts.
“You got dem shoes on your feet!” the man said, quickly snatching the money from Ziggy’s hands. “Sho ’nuff, you got dem shoes right on your feet!” The man cackled as he stuffed the bill in the front pocket of his vest.
“Like, wait a minute, man,” Ziggy protested.
“Shrewd investing, you pathetic chump,” Avery said to Ziggy.
“Now, where you looking to go?” The man put his hat back on.
“Ignore this man, Ziggy,” Avery said. “He’s already halfway to robbing you blind.”
“Oh, now don’t be sore, little fellow,” the man said as he patted the crestfallen Ziggy on his back. “I was just teaching you a valuable lesson ’bout the streets in this part. Got to be careful with that bankroll, my brother. Don’t go waving it around like a string of Mardi Gras beads. Now, where you heading? It’s the least I can do.”
“Sonesta Royale,” Ziggy mumbled.
“The Sonesta Royale,” the man said. “Why, that is a hard place to find. In fact, you is definitely going to be needing Jasper’s help for that one. By the way, that’s me. Jasper. Pleased to meet you.” Jasper shook Ziggy’s limp hand. “Now, for just another ten dollars, I’ll take you there myself. Walk you right in the front door. What ya say?”