AS TOLD BY: Trenelle T.
I returned home to New Orleans in 2008; figuring it was time to shake off the horror stories I'd heard of what had changed since hurricane Katrina. I personally thought it was just the resistance to change that had been passed on for generations like recipes. After three years away, I figured I'd be ready to deal with it, no matter how much of a challenge it'd be. I mean, I'd adjusted to life as a single mother, in Austin, Texas with no family or friends and no clear picture of a future-I'd be alright going back home.
I quickly discovered what was meant by the city being a little smaller. I'd read that the population of the city of New Orleans at the time was about 310,000; as to over 450, 000 pre-Katrina. When you break it down, it told the harsh truth of a smaller number of schools, businesses, restaurants and black professionals-specifically black professional men. I was 33 when I came back-and if I had a dollar to give to every single, black professional man in the city of New Orleans after the storm-well, let's just say I'd probably have a nice little nest egg to put aside if mother nature forced me to flee again.
After way too many stories to my new co-workers (mainly of the ugly looks I got from women figuring I was trying to stake claim on their men) Francis, my supervisor had it set in her mind that her nephew was perfect for me. His name was Landon; he had returned from Memphis several months ago and of course, I began to investigate to see if our paths possibly crossed back in the day. (and if he had a criminal record) I mean, it's hard not to know most of the men your age in the city of New Orleans. It really is the smallest big city. I'm figuring, if I don't know 'of' ' him, someone I know surely does.
After asking a few friends, I got no feedback. So I decided to interrogate poor Francis-almost to the point where she likely thought her idea of playing cupid was a bad one.
But after some thought-and growing a little lonely, I took Francis up on her offer. After exchanging a couple of e-mails, I agreed to meet Landon for lunch at nice spot not far from work in the warehouse district. Safe enough, I thought.
Of course, I arrived a little early, because that's just what women do sometimes, what can I say?
Of course, I arrived a little early, because that's just what women do sometimes, what can I say?
When the tall, brown-skinned brother with a beautiful smile approached me, I said: Oh my God! he's single-and tall like I like em'.. and extremely good looking! And-someone I slept with!
As he extended his hand, I'm like Lord have Mercy, what to do? does he realize I'm a one-night stand from--I don't even know how many years ago? I couldn't bring myself to say anything. And at that point, I didn't know whether to be relieved or insulted at the fact that he probably didn't remember me! Ain't that some shit!
After almost two hours of food and conversation, it never came up. We talked about careers and family and of course where we ended up after the storm. I didn't even get a 'I feel as if I know you from somewhere.' So, I wasn't even goin there!!
Before I could start up my car, I'd called my best friend-the only person I'd mentioned the incident to back then. She found this encounter more amusing than I did! When she did get serious, she asked me-"Do you think that's what it'll be like dating down here? I don't know if I'm up for the merry-go-round of relationships past."
And I totally felt her on that one. I'm thinking post Katrina in so many ways represented a clean slate-jobs, homes, opportunities, ideas. Why not a clean slate of men?
The idea popped into my head when I got back to my desk-If the men aren't here, I need to go where they are!The following weekend, I did something I would have talked about doing, but never followed through-that was post Katrina, though. Now, I never put off something I have the chance to do in the here & now.
I took a weekend to myself-gassed up the car and headed west-I figured I could discover a nice place not too far from New Orleans-far enough where I could be mysterious, but close enough to get otta dodge if things got crazy! I ended up right outside of Lafayette-and it wasn't too bad. Wasn't too country-and the people were nice. Especially the men.
Which leads to Lesson Number Two: A change of scenery never hurt anybody...
(unless you're goin to jail)
You could likely meet someone totally new, who could definitely be worth the trip-
