MisAdventure≥

The Experience of a Mardi Gras virgin, call me crazy now!

I had the opportunity to experience Mardi Gras from a balcony on Bourbon Street. I didn't decide to actually go until I found myself in the car, driving to New Orleans. There were even a couple of false starts. I knew that it was crazy to go there by myself, without directions, and no real plan. That's starting to become my "thing" I suppose. Unfortunately for me, I should have planned a little better. While I remembered my gloves, I forgot my warm jacket. While I remembered clean underwear, I forgot my phone charger.

I made it to New Orleans with a bit of directional help just as the sun was setting. I noticed parking was $30-$40 dollars. I decided I could walk a bit, so I took a side road and parked on the street. It was dark by then and some of the streets were surprisingly vacant and not well lit at all. I pulled my hood over my head and held onto my back pack with both hands.

I made it to Bourbon Street in one piece to find it filled beyond capacity. It seemed like bodies were oozing over the sidewalks and pouring onto side streets before getting sucked back into the melee. I saw girls squatting and puking on corners. The smells alone were making me wish I was born without the ability to smell. I thought about hanging out in a store while I waited, but every entrance to ever building was crammed full. I was hesitant to use my phone too much because I visualized it being very easily snatched from my fingers.

Eventually I was found and threw beads from the balcony until I couldn't feel my fingers and my whole body was shivering. I was smiling the entire time.

The music is loud, the people are loud, the experience is loud. Eventually the music stopped, a bit later after that the people stopped. Too quickly after that the cleaning crews started with machines that seemed way too loud for such an early hour of the day. I hated them as much as I hated the sun streaming through the windows. I had had approximately 3 hours of sleep, and I'm sure that's being generous. It sounded as if they were throwing all of the beads and trash in a wood chipper.

So I left New Orleans on Fat Tuesday. My car was still there and all four tires were present. I smelled, was swarmed trying to get out of the parade route, and quickly realized the exit I wanted to take was blocked. I have a good sense of direction, but crowded streets with french names and lack of sleep was taking it's toll. But I made it eventually.

I took from this experience rank smells, spilled alcohol, frozen appendages, a million laughs, a great time, not so many beads, and a condom.