I hate jobs that take me outside during the heat in New Orleans, but I have one today. I followed a famous musician, hoping to catch him at something his wife could use in a divorce. She didn’t know if he was doing anything–she was just hoping I’d find something. I hate jobs like that too. Fishing trips. Digging into someone’s life in hopes of learning that he’s a secret cheat or crook or user.
At this moment, he was inside a dusty art gallery–probably air conditioned–while I waited across the street in a shady entry. . . .
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “New Orleans.”
First 50 Words - Prompts for Writing Practice 
In another lifetime she visited New Orleans. A convention, wonderful old hotel, the smell of the water and wonderful food and walking down the street there were bars she did not want to look in the open doors. The advertising outside was almost to much. Oh, she was introduced to oysters on the half shell. So good and she ate so many she was sick.
Once in New Orleans
From her table, Rachel heard Saul say, in his usual God’s-gift-to-women voice, ‘New Orleans is jazz history—’
Turning to Pablo she said, ‘Its one of his trailer-trash pickups.’
Pablo glanced over and said, ‘Hmm. great package.
Rachel looked back over. ‘Believe me his package ain’t great,’ she said loudly.