Memories of my melancholy hoes

The Keller Library in the Broadmoor neighborhood is a one room modular unit that opened just recently in the lawn of the previous building which is still awaiting restoration post-Katrina. James likes to go to the 'trailer' library, because the DVD selection is good and everything is new. All the books are new, too. About a month ago, I was excited to find, 'Memories of my Melancholy Whores', a recent book by one of my favorite authors, Gabriel Garcia-Marquez.

I checked it out, read it, and sent it back with James on one of his many trips. Last week, I received the notice that the book didn't find its way back to the shelf. Today, I visited the Main Branch to get to the bottom of the issue.

I have to admit, I felt a little embarrassed when the librarian called the Keller Branch to ask if the book was on the shelf and read the title. The first time was no problem, but apparently, the person on the other end could not understand. So the Main Branch librarian read it again louder. 'Memories of my melancholy whores. Whores. Not hose! Whores!' Then she spelled it - like in a spelling bee. 'Whores. W-H-O-R-E-S. WHORES!' I have never heard nor used the word so many times in repetition and with such volume.

She hung up the phone shaking her head and asked me "Why would anyone have memories of a hose? That doesn't make any sense." She must not realize that a huge majority of NOLA folks don't pronounce the r's in certain words. Ward is wahd. Store is stowe. The plural of stores is stowes. So, of course, the plural of whore is hoes.

Whores or hoes - whichever the case. The book is still MIA - lost within the New Orleans library system. I'm sure there will be more story to follow.