So, Carla received a gift from a realtor she worked with- two tickets to New Orleans. Dear lord, not again. Yep, two free tickets for two free nights at a swanky hotel paid for by Carla’s points???? Did I mention the FREE part? So, we scheduled up and were ready to go. About a week and a half ago, Stacey the Rocket says “Carla asked me to go to New Orleans with you guys…” As you may or may not recall, in addition to Stacey being one of my best friends, she is my legal assistant. So when we are both out of the office, my practice essentially shuts down.
I had to have a serious conversation with Carla where I was like, “look, Stacey is one of my favorite travel companions, but if we are going during the week, you should REALLY ask me first- cause you put me in this terrible position of having to say- I don’t know, maybe, let’s see what the schedule looks like.” Carla totally understood and was apologetic….and then promptly got drunk and invited her again- twice. 🙂 Needless to say, I have zero Stacey resistance, so off to NOLA we all went.
Let’s start at the airport. Did you know that you can take those tiny bottles of Tito’s on the plane in your single quart three ounces of liquid or less bag? Well Carla did. She had THREE of those bags full of tiny little Titos for the plane. Unfortunately, you can’t take three bags…only one. So the TSA guys escort her over to the side to review the contents of her bag. It was hilarious…he just looked at her. All I heard was Carla say “Dude, please don’t take my vodka…” Well, this guy was a trooper. He unpacked the one large bag and put it into three appropriate smaller bags and attributed one to each of us. Away we go!!! To the bar at the airport…a couple of hours and several drinks later and we are on our way to New Orleans…
When we get off the plane and into the cab, I quickly notice the cab drivers notifications. One of which states “It MAY be a first degree felony punishable by death to murder a cab driver in New Orleans.” May?? Really? I mean I am sure there are certain technical extenuating circumstances that make that a factual statement, but if we are trying to DISCOURAGE people from murdering taxi drivers, shouldn’t we use more forceful language…? Food for thought.
We spent the first afternoon at Tonique, and then wandered along to a nice restaurant where we ate, hit the casino, and headed back to the hotel. Ms. Carla was all in and headed to the room. Really? at 10:00??? Thank goodness Stacey was there. We went to the very swanky red club in the hotel where we drank vodka and stared at the awkward 60 something men hitting on the twenty something ladies in the bar.Gosh, men are quite confidant arent they?
The next day we ate at the Ruby Slipper and took a carriage tour. Frankly, I couldn’t understand fifty percent of what the toothless, Cajun tour guy was saying, but he was hilarious. At the end, he sang a little song to Carla- each phrase ended with us singing “over at Carla’s place” as he raised his hand. So from now on, if one of the three of us raises our hand, everyone is to sing “over at Carla’s place.” When the tour was over, we headed to Lafites. And THAT was where things went horrible wrong…
Lafites is the oldest bar in America- although its at the far end of Bourbon, it’s more of a locals place- dark, stanky, with cheap, strong drinks. Perfect. We were boozing is up, when this group came in and started playing cards against humanity next to us. Shortly thereafter- because we are loud Texas women- they asked us to play. And play along with did nicely. It was a lawyer and his hot wife, their local friend, a gay vet from Dallas, and some dude sitting next to me- looked alot like a fat Richard Dawson. So anyway we play along and the group announces they are going to “Cat’s Meow” on Bourbon for Karaoke, do we want to go?
Of course- even though we swore we wouldnt end up in some teeny bobber club on Bourbon- alcohol (the cause and solution to all problems) wins again. So as we are leaving, Fat Richard Dawson says to me “Are we meeting later?” WTF? Is he on crack or hallucinating?
Me- “no, absolutely not.”
FRD- “I’m really good at (doing something of an oral nature that women like and rappers sing about)”
Me- “Excuse me?”
FRD- repeats his fantastic classy explanation of why I should meet a Fat Richard Dawson look alike who I have barely spoken to in the last hour.
Me-“Well, good for you my friend, maybe you can find a cat that will enjoy that.” Walking away.
REALLY????? Is this what I have become??? I’m 46 and some LOSER thinks that is what it takes to have an illicit rendevouz? That is the saddest recognition of age I have ever been slapped in the face with.
So I am bitching about this jackass – who disappears after I tell him to get the F away from me- to the others in his group. And they all start laughing. And I say, “What the hell, he’s your friend.”
To which the local guy replies- “He’s not our friend, he followed us from a different bar.”
Ah!!!!! Makes more sense now.
So anyway we head off to Karaoke where they are serving 3 for one drinks. I look up to see Carla with the gay vet working it out on stage-hilarious. And we all end up out back dancing and laughing…where this exchange happens.
Gay vet: I appreciate your use of Sappho in the name game we played. How do you know about her?
Me: Dude? Really? Do you really think you are smarter than I am?
GV: Obviously. I’m a doctor.
Me: So am I.
GV: You’re a doctorate. Do you hold life and death in your hands?
Me: I could shoot a dog…yeah. Your a vet-it’s not like you are chief of pediatric cardiology at Johns Hopkins…come on man.
GV: I love you. I think we are going to adopt you.
Totally fun, right? Yeah, it was . I even told the story about what the weird guy said at the previous bar. That’s when the lawyers wife told me, privately at the bathroom, the she TOO was good at the above mentioned activity…she even added “really good.”
OMG!!!!! Ah New Orleans….
The girls and I took a pass on this new generous offer of me meeting her and her husband and instead went to dinner at Tommy’s. It was great…from what we can remember.