As a sidebar, allow me to mention that as a college student in New Orleans, myself and some of my frat brothers would go to Galatoire’s now and again for a long, drunken lunch. This was before these old line restaurants became so expensive. Inevitably, there would be two Plaquemines Parish sheriff’s cars parked on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and Leander Perez, junior, having taken his late father’s place as boss of the ass end of Louisiana, would be holding court at one of the tables.
Usually he was drunk as a Lord, smoking cigarettes by the handful, and braying nonsense unfortunately audible to everyone. The lines I remember most:
We were too far away for junior to see us laughing.