The Text of New Orleans

I have the photos and the videos of New Orleans, but what about what REALLY happened to me? I may as well write about it.

Day 1:

We boarded the plane, it was a very interesting trip to JFK Airport. I finished having sex with the Tall Man and I kissed him goodbye. He made Pot Brownies for his Thanksgiving Dinner and gave me one. So yes, I was getting stoned at like 11 am. I met up with a friend, we went from Subway to LIRR to the AirTram to JFK. JetBlue is one of the terminals. When I go to China I'll be in a different International Terminal which is equally thrilling!

We got on the plane and drank. I watched TV for the first time in a long while. The King and I was on, which was thrilling. Deborah Kerr ROCKS the giant skirt like it's no one's business. We arrived in New Orleans on time, which is an hour behind. We got to our cute little Frenchman Hotel. It's a beautiful place.

We hung out and went to Thanksgiving dinner at a hotel on Royal St. It was 38 dollars and was basically a HUGE meal...in the Style of Thanksgiving. We chatted and took pictures and drank. It was a very relaxed and merry time. I love Thanksgiving with my friends. I ordered a Pumpkin pie for dessert, but we think they gave me Quiche Lorraine instead. I ate it.

We went to Bourbon St. and played tourists. The "leader" of our Group, Jeffery, was getting as happily drunk and decided we needed patronize a sleazy bar that was called Big Daddy's Live Sex Acts. This was basically a stripper bar with a bed on stage, yet no fucking ever happened. We were approached by the male dancer who reeked of Meth-use. His missing teeth helped us discover that. Apparently he could tie his penis into a knot. Jeffery saw it during his lap dance.

We went to the two Bourbon St. Gay bars called Oz and Bourbon Street Pub, they're literally right across the street from each other. We hung out and drank, the drinks were weak.

Day 2:

I awoke and started my day off with Beignets. A love that would soon consume me throughout the trip. We split up, two Jeffs went to get a psychic reading. Eric joined me on my Tennessee Williams Walking Tour I created.

I saw his first apartment he lived in the French Quarter. The Apartment he wrote Ten Blocks on the Camino Real, his most surreal play, that his agent said to lock it away and never show anyone it. The apartment where he first wrote his first draft of A Streetcar Named Desire and the apartment he owned when he died. It was a very insightful walk and I loved every moment of it. I also bought two books called The Tennessee Williams Annual Review. The 1999 and 2000 editions. Yes, people still write articles about his writings. Wunderbar!

We had lunch at Napoleon's House and I ate Jambalaya. Which tasted like Uncle Ben's, but I'm not picky. We walked around and I bought tickets to a little showing of Purlie in The Little Theatre on The French Quarter. It was celebrating it's 91st Season...that means it'll be good...right? More on that later.

The psychic was so amazing my friend's said that I got a reading. His name was Philip and he felt my palm and told me different traits about me, before I told him I'm a Cancer. Which was impressive they were specific enough to not seem fake. He told me I'm very routine oriented and I don't like my shit thrown up in the air. He then asked me how my stomach was. I told him fine. According to him I'll never leave the city. I'll find the love of my life in 3-4 years and sooner than that I'll have a chance for children in 2 years. I'm perplexed by it, but we shall see. He also told me I will get a chance to write a play soon...hmmmm. He also told me I won't leave my job until I finish school. And that folks is where I go against my fortune...

We returned to the hotel and I decided to go out walking, I had half of a magical cookie and called my mother. We chatted I told her my psychic encounter, she loved it. I found The Bourbon Street Pub and sat watching the New Orleans gays. It was about 10 minutes later that the Magical Cookie kicked in. I wasn't moving, wasn't talking and was just sitting there enjoying the ride.

My friends called me and I met up with them. They saved me from my trance. We went out drinking and drinking and drinking and drinking. I got dizzier and dizzier, but was having fun. We went to a new bar called Raw Hide and yes it had that very demeanor.

At this point I was just dizzy, meaning I can't see much. I am not close to passing out. I just can't focus on anyone in particular. This man shows up and just starts rubbing my leg. I can tell two things through my haze. He's way old, but trying to pretend he's young. Also he's probably a prostitute of some kind. I excuse myself to go pee and get away from the creepy man. He follows me into the bathroom and proceeds to try and jerk me off.

In my drunk/high stupor I look at him and say, "I'm just here to watch." Probably with a goofy smile on my face too. He walks away and perhaps it was my state of mind, but I swear he walked into a bathroom stall and about seven other men followed him in there. Just like a clown car. I swear!

I returned to the bar with my friends and the creepy man followed me. I was a little surprised, finally one of them stepped in and told him, he's not interested! I decided I couldn't continue on. I walked...stumbled home. It's a surprise that I didn't get killed. I was clearly out of it and hiccuping the entire way home. People were looking at me.

To be continued...