My Analysis, Yer Analysis Part II: A Primary Source Account of Mardi Gras as told through my colon
Friday, February 20, 2009 – 10:30 a.m.
Five cups of coffee strong coffee.[1], 2/3 of a carafe of orange juice, One sip of apple pear pomegranate juice
A three egg, chorizo cheese, jalapeno, and creamed spinach mess of crap with homefries and a biscuit.
One spoonful of guacamole
Three bites of cole slaw.[2]
12:30 p.m.
Five beers (four bottled, one canned)
Two red solo cups of carlo rossi jug wine[3]
One half of Spiderman sugar cookie
Eight 30 second intervals of cherry hookah
3:30 p.m.
Six inch duck po’ boy, six inch oyster po’ boy
Side of four fried green tomatoes with baby shrimp remoulade sauce
5:30 p.m.
Other half of Spiderman sugar cookie
Five more beers, one Water
Four double scotch and cokes
Four more beers
At this point, you could tell me as much as I could tell you
Saturday February 21, 2009 – 11:15 a.m.
Possibly three beads used inappropriately judging from what I’m feeling right now.
One ring pop.[4]
One corona
One duck pb
Two liter-sized Aquafinas
Using entrance as an exit for said duck po’boy, one corona, and two liter-sized Aquafinas.
1:00 p.m.
One hand grenade
Tropical Isle’s Hand Grenade is equal to 3-5 drinks depending on your tolerance. No one knows what is in this drink. Many believe it is just a Goombay Punch. Other websites say it includes the following ingredients: 1.5 oz. gin, 1.5 oz. grain alcohol (probably Everclear), 1.5 oz. of Melon Liqueur, 1.5 oz. rum, 1.5 oz. vodka)
One iced coffee
Three beignets
3:30 p.m.
Finish what’s left of duck po boy and water
Continuance and conclusion of same ring pop
I take a one mile walk to find a parade that ended up running about four hours late.
6:00 p.m.
Mass dehydration
15 handscoops[5] of N.O. city water from the sink of a boutique hotel bathroom.[6]
I return from my walk just in time to see a girl, no taller than 5’3’’, yelling at two 350 pound six-foot black guys trying to cut the theme-park sized line to the port-o-johns. After about 30 seconds of this, they turn around and leave.
7:00 p.m.
Still dehydrated, I walk across an ocean of drunkards to the gas station across the street. The line is about 60 people long for the convenience store. We wait about fifteen minutes to get inside. This seems longer because I’ve called my mom for some reason. Time passes really slowly at this point.
After exiting the store, we try to make our way back to where we had left our friends. In a straight line this is no more than 350 feet however the police barricades make the route much more circuitous. As we cross one of the streets, I am struck by a young black woman trying to catch a football. For some reason, I apologize. She says nothing but is fine and unhurt. However, some people have seen this and probably do not look favorably upon the 6’1’’ white dude who got in the way of the Immaculate Mardi Gras Reception.
Five seconds later
Leading the way for my friend’s girlfriend and accompanied by no one else, I am constantly saying “excuse me” and “sorry” as we attempt to get back to where our friends are awaiting the parade. I see a good path to get through and say “excuse me” to a 5’10’’ black guy with a red shirt, baggy jeans, and black winter cap. He’s standing on the curb of the street and I we have to walk by him to get to the relatively clear path behind him.
“Excuse me,” I say.
“Nah.”
I’m under the impression that he thinks that I am trying to stand in front of him to catch beads.
“Oh, we’re just trying to get by, we’re not trying to stay here,” I respond.
He’s stone faced, arms crossed, and looking like the front of a rap album.
“No, you gon’ hafta find anutha way.”
Ooookkkaayyy… I understand where this could be going. I look at the other eight dudes with him, considerably taller, and they look back at me (white, 6’1’’, just bowled over their black friend). I think I can take them though. My friend’s girlfriend is a solid 5’8’’, 120 pound Spanish girl who has a black eye because a dude on a float threw a cup and popped a blood vessel in her eye. This is a fight that we can win! In response to the most threatened look I have ever been given, I do about the biggest eye roll in the history of eye rolls and walk away.
It’s only at five a.m. the next morning that I realize what I could have gotten myself into.[7] What, at the time, I had thought was a wanna-be gangbanger, was an authentic one.
Playing back what an asshole this guy was, for some reason, I remember the red shirt. What was it about that red shirt? His friends were all wearing that fucking red shirt. Why is this sticking out?
Ooooooooooohhhhhh shiiiiittttt!!!
It had taken me ten hours to realize it. I had just had my first of what will hopefully be a burgeoning relationship of close encounters with a division of the world famous Blood gang. [8]
I won this fight.
7:30 p.m.
One liter of water after pissing myself.
One liter orange Gatorade.
One turkey and swiss sandwich
One beer
My friend has been making out with his ex-girlfriend from 3:30 until 9:30. Somehow, he has still caught more beads than me and was later overheard asking her the following question:
“So…we’re having sex tonight right?”
We add an eighth to our clown car of seven and it takes a half an hour to drive three miles home in crazy after-parade traffic.
[1] 2 tsp of milk, no sugar.
[2] Yeah it’s ironic. Shut up douchebag.
[3] Brilliant bouquet.
[4] I bought this along with the Spiderman cookie yesterday. I had wanted to wear this for quite some time but had never found an appropriate setting. In retrospect, it’s a pretty good parameter for an awesome city. The following is a small list of places it is perfectly acceptable for a 23 year old to eat a ring pop: New Orleans, Vegas, Austin, New York after 10 p.m.
[5] Thank G-d for this water as minutes before I had nearly fainted from mass dehydration. I somehow managed to scrounge up the last vestige of willpower law school has left me and fought it off.
[6] This bathroom was like the fucking grail, secluded in an alcove behind two double doors.
[7] I’m up at five a.m. because the cats are driving me insane with allergies and I’m finishing my second Wesley Snipes movie of the night through red eyes and a runny nose.
[8] Aside from the jeans, eyes, and balls, I wasn’t wearing any blue. If there are any Crips out there reading this, I’m in. Those Bloods are assholes.
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