3 for 1, Cat’s Meow & Band-Aids

Ahhhh, New Orleans.  Where else but the French Quarter can a girl find 3 for 1 beers?

I know ya’ll wanna hear the story… or maybe not… but it goes a lil somethin like this….

With this job, I’ve gotten to go kick it in some pretty cool places.  Some safer than others, but still all very high on the cool-o-meter.

So, off to New Orleans we went for a convention.  OG and her husband were there too, but he’s not much of the partyin type, and he said it wasn’t all too safe for girls to be wandering the city alone.

“Peeee-sha”, said I.

None the less, they recruited me a babysitter in the form of a couple of my colleagues.  But they weren’t staying downtown and were going to have to take a cab and it would be later. 

Yah, yah.  You know me.  I wasn’t waiting.  I knew there was a karaoke bar with 3 for 1 beer specials from 4 til 7 and I could only imagine the amount of beer I could consume before said babysitters arrived.

I told them I’d meet them at the Cat’s Meow (go figure, huh) at 7:00 sharp.  They were prompt, but at 3 for 1, I’d had beer-a-plenty.

So, we cozy up at a table just in front of the stage and low and behold, a music trivia contest is on with some kind of pink shots as the prize.

Well, you know, my love of music paid off that night.  I sucked down more than my fair share of free pinkie shooters. YUM!

Then the singin was on.  The karaoke dude just loved my rendition of Me & Bobby McGee, so he insisted that we croon the dirty version of “Summer Nights” from Grease.  Always the crowd pleaser, I am.

So, after enough beer was enough, Me & my chaperones wandered off in search of zydeco music and a t-shirt for his kid.    Down Bourbon Street we went, skipping (literally), arm in arm, like Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dumb & Tweedle Dumber.

First stop:  Louisiana Music Factory, where there was zydeco music blarin into the street and a Hurricane vendor right next door.   Great, I needed another drink.

I was starting to pack quite the lil buzz and was diggin the noise and the lights, but the people were getting on my nerves.

Second stop:  Chaperone #1 decided that this seedy little store would do for a t-shirt stop.  Great.. dank and dark, but what’s that around there, on the other side of the kiddie merchandise??  Oh. My. Goodness.  This place had all kinds of XXX stuff and bongs.  I was astonished and like a rubbernecker on the freeway, I had to look.  Pot pipes in the shapes of genitals??  Very cool.  Until Chaperone #1 is at the front of the store yelling.  

So, me and Chaperone #2 go to see what all the hub-bub is about.  C#1 is threatening to kick the transvestite’s ass who is operating the establishment.  All because he was being over charged for the shirt by a dollar.  I slapped a dollar on the counter, grab my chaperones, and we’re off again.

Stop Three:  An improtu stop to say the least.  We were rounding the corner from the shop and I look up.  There, above me, swinging legs complete with fishnet stockings.  Amazing.  The legs were  swinging in and out of the wall.  I apparently stood there for a while because Chaperone #1 went in and got lost.  Turns out it was Big Daddy’s, a prominent strip club. 

In the mean time, I flashed some folks up on the balconies that overlook the quarter.  Brought home my fair share of beads again. 

Drunk and tired and in desperate need of sleep before the 6:30 wake up call came, I told my Chaperones that I needed to get back to my hotel.  Again, arm and arm, we skipped along to the place I was calling home for 3 days.

Fourth Stop: A local pharmacy that stays open all night just for people like me who need Band-Aids right now for my painful and swelling blisters from being lame enough to wear new Jesus sandals out for a night of foolishness.

They finally got me to the lobby, dug my key from my purse, pushed me in the elevator and punched 15th floor.  I made it to the room and passed out.  I was late for work the next day.  They said they’d not tell the stories of the drunken acts from the night before, but they lied.

When I showed up, OG was laughing her ass off because I looked like something a cat had yacked up. 

How they didn’t have hang-overs I’ll never know.

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9 Responses to “3 for 1, Cat’s Meow & Band-Aids”

  1. New Orleans is party central. If you can’t find any trouble to get into there you don’t know how to have fun at all.

    Did you see that the real Bobby McGee, the guy the song was based on just died last week? I had no idea there really was a Bobby McGee.

  2. Yep. Sounds like a typical night in New Orleans. I do love that city. Hopefully your friends weren’t too harsh with the stories the next day!

  3. That sounds like a near perfect evening to me, hang over or not.

    PS
    Thanks for stopping by.

  4. You’ve never seen a penis shaped bong? I am flabbergasted.

  5. I would have been totally hung over for sure.

  6. :))) I have done the thrre for one thing at the Cat’s Meow and got lost in Big Daddy’s it always took me a day or two to get over doing a trade show in New Orleans..the self abuse meter runs high there..:)))

  7. Why go all the way to Chocolate City? Couldn’t you find a Walmart to loot that was closer to home?

  8. lol @ this post. Good and funny stuff.

    i too have experienced those nights where the last thing i remember was the “push” and the waking up wondering “what in the hell happened last night.”

    i like the gif of the cat scratch. tight.

  9. Some day I just gotsa sing some karaoke with you Diva! … what the heck is a mystery pinkie shooter? LOL!!
    Sounds like a rip-roarin good time 🙂

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