Polynesian destiny

tiki restaraunt new orleans 1950s

Handwritten page of a diary dated April 24, 1958

… never thought a restaurant could change my whole life, but now I understand how I was meant to live.

Mother almost didn’t let me go because she hardly knows my uncle. My father died when I was little and she only met this brother once. Lucky for me I convinced her that a responsible 16-year-old will be fine eating dinner with her uncle from out of town.

I’ve never seen anything like this place before. I was sitting in a wicker chair that looked like a throne and looking around at waitresses wearing sarongs and grass skirts. And palm plants with giant leaves. And paintings of scantily clad men and women on beaches. And bowls overflowing with tropical flowers. I was cooking little chunks of meat on a stick by holding them over a little fire in a metal container on our table. My fruit drink was served in a porcelain coconut with pineapple chunks and bright red cherries floating around in it.

It was swell to meet my uncle and be able to ask questions about my father. But it was like a special gift to learn that I will need to have a lot of money some day so I can move to a Polynesian Island. That’s where I will feel the most comfortable. Now I’m sure of it.                 

__________________________

Original image:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiki_culture
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Published in: on February 22, 2016 at 4:02 am  Leave a Comment  

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