It was Lexi’s birthday on Tuesday so we decided it was about time we went to see what all the fuss was about down in New Orleans after the last attempt to go was aborted because of hangovers which prompted Carl to Google euthanasia. I knew it was going to be a good weekend when we got a lift to the bus station from Elliot’s roommate Chris and this song was playing on the radio:
Not only is this song one of the best things I’ve ever heard, it turns out that Lexi knows all the words. This is a new one for the “Going out” playlist.
We are super lucky that Tess’s friend Max is studying at Tulane University this year and has an apartment in the city, Max came to stay during the hurricane and lives alone so he was more than happy for us to stay with him in what I like to call ‘My Dream Starter Home’. These photos do it absolutely no justice but the bastard is currently living there for free. Fuck you Max, fuck you and your perfect life.
So we arrived late afternoon on Friday and spent two hours sat on the balcony drinking beer and watching the sun go down. It was all sickeningly idyllic and made me realise how I’ve probably peaked in life right about now. We then went out to a restaurant that Max recommended. This place is not somewhere you would choose to go if you were just walking past but it has completely confirmed the love for oysters that I suspected I had.
We had a dozen raw oysters, two dozen chargrilled, kalamari, crab claws and soft shell crab. Vegetarians stop reading now because we had the horrifying realisation that in the space of 45 minutes we ate over fifty animals! So, what Lexi thought was going to be the worst birthday meal of her life (the girl has only ever eaten tuna and cod before) turned into a pretty good one!
On Saturday we put on our tourist hats and I took at least thirty photos of balconies in the French Quarter….
And then we were joined by Tess, Matt, Elliot, Jason and Taylor to experience Bourbon street at night. A wise man once said to me, “If you go to Bourbon street in NO and run into a blonde waitress at a strip club, her name was Alexandra, send my love.” Unfortunately we didn’t find Alexandra, although on reflection I realise we did find the strip club she works at!
If you take a detour to my Facebook there is an album full of the debauchery that took place last night. But I think it can all be summed up by the following (uncensored here but you will find a crude attempt at making it appropriate on Facebook ) photo:
This woman was out for her friend’s fortieth birthday, casually whipped out her boob for a photo, told us how she had a fifteen and eleven year old and then asked us not to tell her boyfriend (who she then introduced us to) about the photo. Oh New Orleans…. So, in summary, this weekend I confirmed a love for oysters, found my dream apartment, danced on a stool, saw a forty year old woman’s breast, ate beignets and chocolate milk from Cafe du Monde at 3am and for some unknown reason thought that I should pick up the dollar I found in the Bourbon juice on the street….
We were lucky enough to get a lift home with Taylor because we needed to get back (I’m supposed to be studying for midterms right now but that just doesn’t seem to be happening…) and everyone else was slightly comatosed. I have a photo of Elliot passed out in the walk in wardrobe wearing two pairs of boxers to prove this but I’m not sure how he will feel about that being put online….
In other news, I have had no “I love your accent”s recently, but at least five people tell me I have a beautiful voice in the last month. Awww shucks guys!
Until the next adventure!