Mardi Gras: A Post in Three Acts

For anyone waiting on grad apps and agent query letters. For those whose mailbox overfloweth lit mag rejection letters. Hear ye my poorlings who dodge calls from the Student Assistance Foundation.

A break. Mardi Gras!

Act I: The Evening

I caught Endymion three times last night. I started in Mid City at a pre parade party, saw Kid Rock and REO Speedwagon (dreams do come true!), thought I was wiped out from a long night and went home. Looked at the clock and realized it was 7. Got the call from friends, regrouped and walked down to Canal to catch a little of the tourist yahoo scene. Around 12 walked home, caught the parade again on Tulane after it curved around Lee Circle. Respect for those tuba players hauling all night.

Act II: Loot Tips

1) Don’t stand near kids. Goodies will be thrown, but you will feel compelled to give them all away.

2) If you are a woman, stand alone amidst frat boys (if you can clear an area where you can actually catch stuff, you’ll have to be far enough away from the FQ). At one point I found myself surrounded by d-bags in backward baseball caps. The goods came raining down. I emerged looking like a sparkle bead Cousin It.

3) Catch the end of the parade route. They gotta unload it all.

Act III: The Voice of Mardi Gras: A Play in One Quote

Place: Lee Circle, New Orleans

Time: Midnight. Saturday of Mardi Gras. The final parade of the day has just passed. The crowds are dispersing, weary and staggering.

Cast: Twenty something blond woman, cockeye sobby drunk, and her two girlfriends who are holding her up, trying to get her home.

Blond Woman: “He never wants to fuck me. He won’t fuck me. Aiiiiiieeeeooooo. I don’t know why he won’t fuck me. Forever he won’t fuck me. And it’s so small. He won’t FUCK me. It was so small I almost cried the first time I saw it. Y’all don’t understand. I almost cried. It’s been two years! I don’t even know what a normal one looks like anymore. He won’t. He won’t. Ohhhhh God. (crying) Ohhhhh God (wailing). Y’all don’t understand. Y’all don’t understand.” (collapses on ground, hysterical)

And this, ladies, is why you need codeps who will recognize, get you Popeye's fried chicken and get you home. Fast.