A taste of the excitement
So I just got home from the Quarter. I went to pay a bill, see if work was a possibility, and just otherwise scope out the scene.
Work. Ha. There was no space on Royal St., because the street wasn't closed to traffic, due to rerouting from Decatur. One reader, Big Gay Al, was set up in the doorway of Cohen Brothers Antiques. He was doing a reading, and had a frazzled look about him. One other reader, Rat Boy the crack addict, was set up across the street from Rouse's, looking pathetic and twitchy. NOT A SINGLE PERSON WORKING IN THE QUARTER that I talked to was happy. Not musicians, mimes, balloon people. Not shopkeepers, cashiers, business owners, servers, or cooks. Nobody. Nobody I spoke to who works for tips was making any. And then it began to rain.
So, I don't feel SO bad not working.
Of course, I will probably get an eviction notice come Monday. Not even kidding about that. I'm trying to be oh so Zen and optimistic about it. Whatever. Stress can wait till after kick off. I'll have to panic about it tomorrow. The Tau of Scarlett O'Hara.
Jackson Square is a creeping, dystopian nightmare. You would think that such a thing would make me happy. It looks like a huge spaceship has landed next to Cafe Du Monde; one that we are not supposed to talk about. But it is THERE... Monitoring us and our habits. Fucking with the ions and pissing off all the ghosts. Yeeks; what a monstrosity.
It's all VERY 1980s East Berlin: http://www.nola.com/jacksonsquarecam/
I went to Rouse's to get the stuff to make my "Special Game" chili, and my sliced zucchini and yellow squash. Superstition: It's what's for dinner. All along my journey, I kept getting that nod, the one that means, "I am wearing a Saints-related shirt and you are too... We must acknowledge each other in a brotherly way!". It's like the fleur de lis tattoo nod, except the tattoo people usually have cooler hair. It was fun. I like those nods. Brief bonding encounters with total strangers are neat *. That's the reason I still wear my birthday dollar; love hearing those random stranger "Happy Birthday"s.
Not that any of you should stop pinning my dollar. 0_0
I decided to not wait it out until the parade. Didn't seem like it would be as fun as the Super Bowl parade was. Definitely didn't seem as fun as it would be watching it on TV. So I made my way toward the bus, stopping to say Hi to people I know along the way. More people pissed off at the crowd... So it's surely a good idea I didn't try to work. Don't want to be all pissed off and burnt out for Friday.
Okay, Dave Matthews just came on, and the first song he played was "Don't Drink the Water"... Should we be offended?
The wind keeps shaking the camera and making me dizzy.
Dave Matthews is kind of an idiot, isn't he? He keeps mumbling platitude-y sounding things into the mike; and is drowned out every time by people screaming "Who Dat!!!" LAWL.I think he missed his calling as a Vegas lounge performer **.
I wish they would stop calling it "Jackson Square". It's not. Not today.; it's just...not. They should call it... "NFLand" or something.
Also... Come to think of it... I didn't see a single cop. Really not the whole time I was out there. Not even on Bourbon St. or near the 8th district station. Hmm.
Mugging becomes a possibility.
*shrug* Nah. I'll just stay home and watch the game. Go Saints!
* Shut up, Beavis; I didn't mean it that way. And I'm not a slut... I'm affectionate.
** With NO OFFENSE to Neil Diamond or Tom Jones, of course!!! All Hail the greats!
Work. Ha. There was no space on Royal St., because the street wasn't closed to traffic, due to rerouting from Decatur. One reader, Big Gay Al, was set up in the doorway of Cohen Brothers Antiques. He was doing a reading, and had a frazzled look about him. One other reader, Rat Boy the crack addict, was set up across the street from Rouse's, looking pathetic and twitchy. NOT A SINGLE PERSON WORKING IN THE QUARTER that I talked to was happy. Not musicians, mimes, balloon people. Not shopkeepers, cashiers, business owners, servers, or cooks. Nobody. Nobody I spoke to who works for tips was making any. And then it began to rain.
So, I don't feel SO bad not working.
Of course, I will probably get an eviction notice come Monday. Not even kidding about that. I'm trying to be oh so Zen and optimistic about it. Whatever. Stress can wait till after kick off. I'll have to panic about it tomorrow. The Tau of Scarlett O'Hara.
Jackson Square is a creeping, dystopian nightmare. You would think that such a thing would make me happy. It looks like a huge spaceship has landed next to Cafe Du Monde; one that we are not supposed to talk about. But it is THERE... Monitoring us and our habits. Fucking with the ions and pissing off all the ghosts. Yeeks; what a monstrosity.
It's all VERY 1980s East Berlin: http://www.nola.com/jacksonsquarecam/
I went to Rouse's to get the stuff to make my "Special Game" chili, and my sliced zucchini and yellow squash. Superstition: It's what's for dinner. All along my journey, I kept getting that nod, the one that means, "I am wearing a Saints-related shirt and you are too... We must acknowledge each other in a brotherly way!". It's like the fleur de lis tattoo nod, except the tattoo people usually have cooler hair. It was fun. I like those nods. Brief bonding encounters with total strangers are neat *. That's the reason I still wear my birthday dollar; love hearing those random stranger "Happy Birthday"s.
Not that any of you should stop pinning my dollar. 0_0
I decided to not wait it out until the parade. Didn't seem like it would be as fun as the Super Bowl parade was. Definitely didn't seem as fun as it would be watching it on TV. So I made my way toward the bus, stopping to say Hi to people I know along the way. More people pissed off at the crowd... So it's surely a good idea I didn't try to work. Don't want to be all pissed off and burnt out for Friday.
Okay, Dave Matthews just came on, and the first song he played was "Don't Drink the Water"... Should we be offended?
The wind keeps shaking the camera and making me dizzy.
Dave Matthews is kind of an idiot, isn't he? He keeps mumbling platitude-y sounding things into the mike; and is drowned out every time by people screaming "Who Dat!!!" LAWL.I think he missed his calling as a Vegas lounge performer **.
I wish they would stop calling it "Jackson Square". It's not. Not today.; it's just...not. They should call it... "NFLand" or something.
Also... Come to think of it... I didn't see a single cop. Really not the whole time I was out there. Not even on Bourbon St. or near the 8th district station. Hmm.
Mugging becomes a possibility.
*shrug* Nah. I'll just stay home and watch the game. Go Saints!
* Shut up, Beavis; I didn't mean it that way. And I'm not a slut... I'm affectionate.
** With NO OFFENSE to Neil Diamond or Tom Jones, of course!!! All Hail the greats!