The Big Easy is for hustlers
One of the assignments for my Sociology class is to write about a time when you experienced culture shock. Uh, I'm from Wisconsin dumbass, everything is culture shock.
You wanna know what was a "culture shock"? New Orleans. Pre-Katrina New Orleans.
I planned a stop in New Orleans to break up a drive we made from Dallas Texas to Valdosta Georgia a couple of years ago. I thought it would be fun to see. We got a great deal on a sweet hotel room with a jacuzzi whirlpool in it, right on St. Charles Ave. where the trolley is (or was). The hotel had this restaurant in it with the best damn cheesecake to ever grace the planet. That part of it was cool.
The rest of New Orleans? Hell.
The first thing we learned about New Orleans was not to go anywhere cool. Because the homeless folks and thugs hang out there. Waiting to prey on tourists apparently. Great. We're from Wisconsin, 'member? Everything about us says tourist. The pale white skin, the yankee accents, the f-ing map we're staring at, trying to figure out where the tourist hot spots are... We're dead.
The second thing you learn about New Orleans is it is holy shit hot. And holy shit humid. It was 175 degrees, with 197% humidity. Actually, I think they call it holyshitidity down there. When you step outside, your underwear just crawls up your ass and disintegrates immediately. We were quite unprepared for this. That and the urine smell that accompanies these inhumane weather conditions and the mass binge drinking The Big Easy is so famous for.
The third thing you learn about New Orleans is not to do drugs in New Orleans. We don't do drugs anymore, obviously. But I won't say we've never done drugs. In New Orleans. Trust me, this is a bad idea. I got a little from a friend before we left on this trip, and we thought it would be fun to smoke it in the hotel room before going down to get something to eat in the hotel restaurant.
We do that, go down to the restaurant, and grab a seat by the front window. We're eating some munchies, taking in the sights... and up pulls a K9 cop. He gets out, and we watch him walk into the hotel. Right about now we're having a heart attack sandwich... thinking they're busting into our room right about now... and in 10 minutes we're going to be in a New Orleans jail. If you can't even be safe on the streets of New Orleans, I'm thinking the last place you want to be in one of their jails...
Do we go back to the room? Do we just leave? What about all of our stuff? You know, the usual marijuana induced anxiety...
Five minutes or so goes by. Sitting. Freaking out.
He walks back out. He was just getting some food from the restaurant.
Finally, we learned, in New Orleans, do not. Ever. Let anyone squirt shit on your shoes. Long, very embarassing story, but trust me on this one. You gots yo shoes on yo feet. Remember that. Take no bets on this one.
Oh, and whatever you do, don't get on the trolley past 10pm. Yeah, we didn't find this one out until about 10:30ish. This was our fricken way back to the hotel, and this bartender tells us this. Thanks bud. He did tell us not to let anyone squirt shit on your shoes though. Ok... and where were you when you that dude was SQUIRTING SHIT on my f-ing shoe jackass?
I hate New Orleans. Or hated, it's probably not that bad without all the people. Although I'm sure it still stinks... But anyways, that was my "culture shock" experience... Don't go there. Come to Wisconsin. We'll make you feel welcome, and you can drink and smoke, and not have to worry about dying...
peace nick
You wanna know what was a "culture shock"? New Orleans. Pre-Katrina New Orleans.
I planned a stop in New Orleans to break up a drive we made from Dallas Texas to Valdosta Georgia a couple of years ago. I thought it would be fun to see. We got a great deal on a sweet hotel room with a jacuzzi whirlpool in it, right on St. Charles Ave. where the trolley is (or was). The hotel had this restaurant in it with the best damn cheesecake to ever grace the planet. That part of it was cool.
The rest of New Orleans? Hell.
The first thing we learned about New Orleans was not to go anywhere cool. Because the homeless folks and thugs hang out there. Waiting to prey on tourists apparently. Great. We're from Wisconsin, 'member? Everything about us says tourist. The pale white skin, the yankee accents, the f-ing map we're staring at, trying to figure out where the tourist hot spots are... We're dead.
The second thing you learn about New Orleans is it is holy shit hot. And holy shit humid. It was 175 degrees, with 197% humidity. Actually, I think they call it holyshitidity down there. When you step outside, your underwear just crawls up your ass and disintegrates immediately. We were quite unprepared for this. That and the urine smell that accompanies these inhumane weather conditions and the mass binge drinking The Big Easy is so famous for.
The third thing you learn about New Orleans is not to do drugs in New Orleans. We don't do drugs anymore, obviously. But I won't say we've never done drugs. In New Orleans. Trust me, this is a bad idea. I got a little from a friend before we left on this trip, and we thought it would be fun to smoke it in the hotel room before going down to get something to eat in the hotel restaurant.
We do that, go down to the restaurant, and grab a seat by the front window. We're eating some munchies, taking in the sights... and up pulls a K9 cop. He gets out, and we watch him walk into the hotel. Right about now we're having a heart attack sandwich... thinking they're busting into our room right about now... and in 10 minutes we're going to be in a New Orleans jail. If you can't even be safe on the streets of New Orleans, I'm thinking the last place you want to be in one of their jails...
Do we go back to the room? Do we just leave? What about all of our stuff? You know, the usual marijuana induced anxiety...
Five minutes or so goes by. Sitting. Freaking out.
He walks back out. He was just getting some food from the restaurant.
Finally, we learned, in New Orleans, do not. Ever. Let anyone squirt shit on your shoes. Long, very embarassing story, but trust me on this one. You gots yo shoes on yo feet. Remember that. Take no bets on this one.
Oh, and whatever you do, don't get on the trolley past 10pm. Yeah, we didn't find this one out until about 10:30ish. This was our fricken way back to the hotel, and this bartender tells us this. Thanks bud. He did tell us not to let anyone squirt shit on your shoes though. Ok... and where were you when you that dude was SQUIRTING SHIT on my f-ing shoe jackass?
I hate New Orleans. Or hated, it's probably not that bad without all the people. Although I'm sure it still stinks... But anyways, that was my "culture shock" experience... Don't go there. Come to Wisconsin. We'll make you feel welcome, and you can drink and smoke, and not have to worry about dying...
peace nick
posted by Nick at
12:57 PM
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