“Where ya going, Sha?” She asked with a thick Cajun accent.Striking a match on the concrete bench, I lit my smoke, and offered to light hers. She ...ent down, sucking the fire into the unfiltered gasper. “I’m not going anywhere,” I answered, “I just came in to cool off a minute.”“Yeh, it’s hot,” She declared, “I hang out here sometimes too. You know, for the air conditioning.”New Orleans in August. Heat and the damned humidity. To be honest, I would rather the heat and even the hurricanes than. What if he ran abreath test on her, with all she had to drink last night shemight not be able to pass. That would get her license morethan suspended. She had to get out of this ticket. Janet ignored the Trooper’s approach and quicklymoved to the glove compartment for her papers, determinedto be the very model of cooperation and sweetness. “License please, young lady.” said a deep masculinevoice. With a bright smile on her face, Janet turned to facethe Officer, papers in. More

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