can you buy isotretinoin in mexico My friend Tom and I, after a few beers at a local saloon, went on down to the Mississippi to get a look. As we stood there, the cool air off the river blowing the hair back from our faces, a little man – he was so little I thought he might be a dwarf – with a beard asked me how I liked the French Quarter.
Zhoucheng “I love it,” I said. “Like pretty much everyone else.”
“Yeah,” he said, in a strange, high-pitched voice. “Well, if you want to see where things are really at, like the really cool neighborhood, you have to come to the Lower Ninth Ward. That’s where I live.”
I wasn’t sure if this person was being facetious or not. The Lower Ninth Ward was interesting as a kind of symbol of Hurricane Katrina devastation and the problems of how to redevelop the city, but I had no doubt it was not “where it’s at.” But I decided to let this person be; he was just a harmless booster.
After we were a safe distance away, Tom said, “I bet you don’t see that every day in the Catskills.”
“What?”
“That bearded lady over there.”
“What do you mean?”
He laughed. “John! That was a bearded lady!”
I thought Tom was being facetious. “I thought that was a guy, like a midget or something.”
“Didn’t you notice the voice?”
“His voice was very high, that’s true.”
“She’s a bearded lady! I’ve seen her around before. I think she works in like freak shows and things around town.”
I had no doubt that he thought she/he was a bearded lady, and who knows: I had to admit that in New Orleans, it was possible.
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