Me: I want you to experience the city with me tonight.
Sophia: Really? You’re going to give me a tour of the city?
Me: Yes. I want you to see the beauty and the fun. I want you to want to come see me so you can see it all in person.
“Hey, Tom, can you take a picture of me?” I asked, handing my phone over before I jogged across the street.
I laughed as I posed in front of a very large DANGER sign spray-painted on a cement separator. It was perfect. Tom snapped the picture, and I asked him to take it again in case he fucked it up somehow.
I sent her the photo just as we climbed on to the streetcar.
Me: The start of the tour.
Sophia: Are you trying to tell me something?
I laughed because Sophia seemed to know how my mind worked. We seemed to get each other. For some odd reason, I felt like I’d know her my entire life.
Me: Me? Never.
Sophia: Where to next?
Me: Down to Bourbon Street. Ready?
I sent her pictures of the inside of the streetcar and the stops along the way. I couldn’t even leave the house for an evening and not find a way to make her part of it. I needed to talk with her.
I told her I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, but it was a lie. When I said the words when we first started talking, they were true. But as each day passed, I developed feelings for her. How fucked up was that? I hadn’t even met her, and I felt a connection with her unlike any I had before.
Sophia: It’s beautiful and so different.
I sent her a picture of a beautiful courtyard that was filled with flowers and tables, and a fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, flowing with water and glowing.
Me: I want to sit in this exact spot with you and sip on a drink.
Sophia: I’d rather be there with you than sitting on my couch right now.
Me: Look at this.
I spotted a few girls covered in body paint and no shirts. They were taking pictures with random men on the street for money and earning a hell of a lot. I snapped a photo from a distance and sent it to her.
Sophia: Wow. They have no shirts on, and that guy is basically grabbing her boob.
Me: Yep, women do it all the time here. It’s normal.
Sophia: More pictures please but maybe less boobs.
Me: Gotcha.
Tom and I walked down into the heart of the French Quarter, and I captured as many images as I could to tell her the story of my night. Tom was very patient, understanding my goal of luring Sophia to New Orleans.
“So you really like this girl, huh?” Tom asked me as we waited in line for another drink.
“I do.”
“Giving up on your arrangements, then?”
“Yeah, she makes me want more. If she’s anything in person like what she is like online, then I want her and no one else,” I told him, and it didn’t feel odd saying it out loud.
“Interesting, bro. She hot?”
