Well, I spent the weekend in New Orleans. It was my first time since turning 21. Badass city, and can't wait till I go back. Here's my roommate's account of what went down.
"First of all, the drive from Austin to New Orleans (via Houston) is nothing short of a pain in the ass. You cross through all the cities where people are forced to live (vs. choose to live). Cities such as Beaumont, Vidor, Baytown, Lake Charles, etc. I-10 is a decent road until you get into Louisiana, whereupon it becomes something similar to a cattle road in Rwanda. We stayed at the Comfort Suites on Baronne, and the location was pretty spectacular. We were only three blocks away from both Bourbon Street and the Superdome.
Night 1 involved significant amounts of drinking on Bourbon Street, with good emphasis on downing as many streetside Hurricanes ($4) as possible without dying. It was a treat that we were able to buy a beer at the Comfort Suites Bar ($2.50) and walk all the way to Bourbon Street with beer in hand. Once we got there, initially the rampant smell of vomit and urine was a little dejecting, but it didn't take long for the streetside Hurricanes to make everything okay. The street was absolutely laden in Burnt Orange, with the occasional gangster, slut, prostitute, and transvestite.
We first went to Razoo’s (just hold your drink by your waste, and the guy at the door won't see it), where we enjoyed about three rounds of $2 Kamakazes. From there, one of my drunken friends decided it would be a good idea to go into one of the strip clubs next door (Big Daddy's). We go in there, and there is a one-drink minimum. Unfortunately, the beers were $7.75 but we were drunk and really didn't give a rat’s ass. After watching some unsightly skanks dance for 45 minutes, we got bored and our group entered Bourbon again. We proceeded to hit up bar after bar (Cat's Meow as strong Hurricanes) and get thoroughly plastered.
As we got to Pat Obrien's some fat Sooner fan walked up. He started selling us the usual [censored] about how we can't win the big game, no coaching, Simms is gay, etc. Me and 2 friends fought hard football facts with him for a solid twenty minutes. After that, one of my other friends walked up and asked the Okie the following question:
"Hey, you must be a queer because your fatass is walking around Bourbon Street by yourself, while we are chilling with 3 girls. Stop talking to us and go jack-off"
Something like this is generally mild smack, but it drove the Sooner Fan into a wild rage. He wanted to fight all of us (1 on 7), and started stalking us around Bourbon. Soon enough, he realized that there were about 10,000 Hornfans on Bourbon, and there was no way he would make it alive in any fight, so he disappeared. My friend met a fine female from Austin, and disappeared into the night. The rest of us stumbled into a Ford Aerostar cab and got back to the Hotel.
Day 2 involved getting up at about 10 (after a good 3 hours sleep) and heading to the mall across the street from the Superdome. It turned out to be one of the single most amazing sights I had ever seen. The entire mall was laden with Burnt Orange. I hardly saw a local NOLA resident anywhere. The mall was emanating with chants of “Texas Fight!”, and people were getting good and plastered at one of the many fine drinking establishments inside the mall. After downing a pint of beer ($2.00) and a 20-oz daiquiri ($4), we proceeded over the bridge into the Superdome.
The Superdome is essentially a domed bar. There is everything from shot stands to mixed drink stands inside. We grabbed a 32 oz. Coors Lights (with souvenir cup) for 8 bucks and proceeded to our seats. The entire stadium was essentially orange. There were some speckles of green occasionally, but nothing worth noting. Most Tulane fans I saw didn’t give a damn about their team, they just wanted to get drunk at the Superdome. We sat through the first have nicely buzzed, enjoying the game. At halftime, we ventured to the exit to grab a quick/cheap drink at the mall across the street during halftime. Apparently, Superdome officials are well aware of this tactic, and they had a no re-entry provision on the ticket. Enraged, I went and purchased another 32-oz beer, and stole a bag of peanuts for good measure. I was pretty drunk at this point, and enjoyed the game atmosphere of the second half. Interesting thing is that at the end of the game all I could think about was OU. I cannot wait to stomp a hole in those [censored]’ asses, but that is another topic.
We left the Superdome and went out onto the bridge again, where about 25,000 liquored up hornfans were meandering around. One of my friends from school actually rolled a keg up onto the bridge, and the cops could have cared less! We then went back to the hotel to change. While some of the group rested, the rest of us went to Pat Obrien’s for dinner. Food was okay, but the 32 oz. Hurricane ($9, you get to keep the glass) had about 4 shots of liquor in it. From there it was off to Harrah’s (with a $2.50 Miller Lite on the way). The place was totally packed with Hornfans. That poor casino was totally overwhelmed, with significant lines at each card table. Unfortunately for me, they didn’t have the college student table ($5) in the house, as there was a ten-dollar minimum. Not to be phased and already drunk for over 6 hours, I went ahead and blew 60 bucks in an hour. It was rather unfortunate, because the waitress came around only once, so I only got to enjoy one Absolut Tonic.
The incident provided me further motivation to increase my blood alcohol level even more, so we ventured out to a convenience store on the street. We purchased a Miller Lite ($2), and proceeded onwards to Bourbon Street. There we met up with the rest of the group, and charged towards the grenade stand. A word of caution regarding grenades; They are the single most destructive drinks man has invented. They are deceiving in that you can’t taste the extent of alcohol in them, and they actually get stronger as you get nearer to the bottom. After burning a grenade (about 5 bucks), I headed to Fat Tuesday’s (incidentally the Hornfan.com banner on the balcony is what attracted my attention in my moment of drunkenness). I really don’t remember the next 5 hours, but I do know that I spent $24 more on alcohol, and I was still ridiculously drunk at 3 a.m.
After throwing down some late night pizza at one of the stands on Bourbon, I began to stumble back towards the hotel (all of us had gotten split up). As I am wandering back down the street, I see my roommate stumbling in the other direction. At the same time, I see another counterpart sitting on a curb down the street. All of us (plastered beyond belief) decide to go to the Caspah (strip club). Once inside, we see this insanely hot stripper. She was way the hell too hot to be working at a seedy joint like that, but there was probably something wrong with her. Anyways, she got to us enough at that point, that we decided we were going to make the night interesting. I went to the ATM and withdrew $150 just in case. When I came back, me and my two buddies starting talking to the stripper about what was gonna go down after she got off. Right then, some whale in a suit called her over. He whispered into her ear, and next thing you know she comes back and tells us the guy just offered her a ridiculous amount of cash for a “private party.” This served as a reality check for us, and we quickly came to our senses and left the bar. After some public urination, and mild hotel vandalism, we passed out in the room (incidentally, there were 8 in one hotel room).
The next day was characterized by the normal sadness and drunken sickness involved with leaving a party atmosphere, and going back to reality. Only one thing of interest on the journey back, Shoney’s has the vilest scrambled eggs known to man. It resembles bile with cottage cheese in it. I swear that “restaurant” had food that was inedible, acrid, and flat out disgusting. I recommend Waffle House, but there is already another thread…
P.S. This is a highly abridged version of what happened with several interesting details left out, but I think everyone gets the flavor."
Everyday I'm hustlin'.