Arts & Commerce: Primal Fear

I walked into a dank and barely lit magic shop just off Bourbon Street looking for a really good curse, but the woman behind the counter refused to sell me one.

“Dem only work on people, cheri,” she said. “Can’t use ’em on personal video recorders.”

Then she fixed a baleful eye on my fashionably casual business attire and asked, “You from dat advertising convention down der riverside? You people been comin’ in here all week.”

Well, OK, the store is real, but the story is fictional.

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