"When I first arrived in New Orleans I used to hang out at Z’otz Cafe downtown, a now-closed spot near the Royal Street laundromat; it was open 24 hours and, to me as a 17-year-old freight-train-hitching punk street musician, a refuge — a place where I met friends, washed dishes in exchange for free coffee, and napped until it was light enough to wander around Washington Square Park. It felt like a vortex you went into, another place where time didn’t exist." - Justine Jones