Memphis, TN to New Orleans, LA
398 Miles
BG
RB
Once we spotted our first sea shanty town off the highway, we started getting very excited for New Orleans. We found a very nice hotel right off of the French Quarter (Parc St. Charles) with a great corner room with floor to ceiling windows high above the city, perfect for freeballing. We cleaned ourselves up and headed out to Bourbon Street.
BG
RB
Once we spotted our first sea shanty town off the highway, we started getting very excited for New Orleans. We found a very nice hotel right off of the French Quarter (Parc St. Charles) with a great corner room with floor to ceiling windows high above the city, perfect for freeballing. We cleaned ourselves up and headed out to Bourbon Street.
See the sights the way we saw most of them!
We found Pat O'Brien's and ate and drank like champions, feasting on gumbo, jambalaya, crawfish etoulle, and alligator nuggets. Our first drink, a Hurricane- which is basically a lot of rum and sugar in a big ass glass- set us up for the rest of the night: the bigger the cup, the better the drink.
A couple bros had found the Gallon sized Miller Lites, which might be a little excessive, but snagging the torpedo, which is about as long as your leg, is always a good decision. We went for hand grenades, which are pretty deadly, especially for the ladies.
This guy was hit by too many hand grenades
The music in New Orleans is not quite as soulful as in Memphis, but the sights more than make up for it. We went into a nice jazz bar, but had to bail once the band started playing "Let's Get It On" and the older couples started grinding all over each other while the lead singer started shaking his Viagra bottle like a maraca.
It's tough to see, but the lead singer is wearing an all red leather suit. Awesome.
We checked out a rock bar next, which wasn't the greatest music, but the band did have two lead singers, one who sang and the other who played really nice air guitar and got the rest of the band delicious refreshments.
We did the balcony thing for a minute until we saw Mecca across the street- Zazzoo's.
This guy knew how to party
Everyone in the bar was crowded around the stage, where two MC's brought girls up to show off their dance moves. The highlight of the evening was definitely the Souljah Boy Dance Contest. It was looking like a close battle between a busty co-ed and a 40 year old boy, but when the guy grabbed the sweatshirt around his waist and used a loose sleeve to supersoak the competition, the battle was over.
The rest of the night involved drinking and not going into bars because they wouldn't let us bring our drinks in- not quite as friendly as Memphis, which is too bad. The night for us was over after we heard the "Don't Stop Believing" sing-along for the third time.
Quote of the day from the next morning- we bump into a group of people walking around in authentic 18th century clothing, greeting the tourists. Complimenting Rob's sensible raingear, the Davy Crockett looking guy with a coonskin cap stated,
"Shouldn't have worn beaver on my head."
The Big Sleazy.. Where dreams come true, 20 dollars at a time. Bourbon Street was the place where everyone loves you, until they realize you're broke. Until that point though, they couldn't be friendlier.
The peddlers on the street had a PHD in drunk wrangling, blocking your way down the sidewalk and directing you into their clubs. It took all our fortitude to avoid the tricks of the trade. Luckily I had been pre-warned by a street-wise older brother who had warned me about the shot-girls who inhabit these types of areas.
At first glance, these girls appear to be like any other cute girl. Then, they approach you with vials of colorful shots, and just before they reach you, they seductively place them face up in their mouths and swoop in as if going for a kiss. Had I not been pre-warned I would've gratefully accepted her love potion and been slapped with a $20 charge. Luckily this was not the case and I whispered the magical 2 words that drive any New Orleans woman away, "I'm Broke!" She left us alone after that, much to Billy's chagrin.
After that, we discovered 3 for 1 beers, and then the night gets a little hazy. WE woke up the next morning and decided that, while New Orleans was a blast, if we didn't get out now, we'd never leave.
The peddlers on the street had a PHD in drunk wrangling, blocking your way down the sidewalk and directing you into their clubs. It took all our fortitude to avoid the tricks of the trade. Luckily I had been pre-warned by a street-wise older brother who had warned me about the shot-girls who inhabit these types of areas.
At first glance, these girls appear to be like any other cute girl. Then, they approach you with vials of colorful shots, and just before they reach you, they seductively place them face up in their mouths and swoop in as if going for a kiss. Had I not been pre-warned I would've gratefully accepted her love potion and been slapped with a $20 charge. Luckily this was not the case and I whispered the magical 2 words that drive any New Orleans woman away, "I'm Broke!" She left us alone after that, much to Billy's chagrin.
After that, we discovered 3 for 1 beers, and then the night gets a little hazy. WE woke up the next morning and decided that, while New Orleans was a blast, if we didn't get out now, we'd never leave.
It really is just like Disneyland.
They got horses.
No comments:
Post a Comment