When 1:00 a.m. rolled around, I headed down to a well-known spot that drew in a particular type of crowd. A speakeasy, New Orleanais’ slang for bar, located in the Upper Ninth Ward district. A dive I wouldn't take even the infamous Jack the Ripper to on my worst night. No worry though. I could handle myself. If I could survive the iniquity of the Illuminati, anything else was a piece of cake.
I discovered this place during my stay at Haven. Back then, it didn’t mean anything to me, but now, it might just be what the doctor ordered. I overheard a couple of orderlies talking about a bar they hung out at down at the Bywater area, south of the Mississippi River. After listening to the orderlies’ lewd chats, I figured it must be a sleazy dive. Judging by their character, I couldn’t imagine any
