The Eccentricity of Bourbon street
When we rounded the corner, I knew there was no chance of returning to the apartment anytime soon. The deep base and smashing drums echoing out of a corner bar alerted me to the magnitude of what we were walking into. The street were closed off to motor-vehicle traffic. Festival goers were taking the paty to the street. Many paced through the corridor with beads around their necks and drinks in hand. We quickly walked over to a small stand cradled in the side of a building. They dispensed 22oz domestic beer for about $2:50. After a few minutes of dealing with either the hot dog vendor or ATM machine, we set out among the masses.
Bourbon Street was more startling than I ever could have imagined. It was a tiny inlet where the laws of social reality were distorted to an almost unrecognizable end. Notions such as open container laws, public exposure, and police supervision were virtually non-existent. Progressive stages of inebriation were seen from all manner of people that walked by. I noticed potential swindlers lurking in the shodows. In front of a burlesque house a tall guy was pulling a drag out of a slender glass pipe. We could smell the aroma passing by, which makes me sure that the cop standing across the street could as well. He did nothing to stop or even recognize it.
After walking a few blocks we settled on a bar Perpy recommended. It was famous for a tropical drink I never heard of before, the "Grenade." The taste was familiar. It seemed like the liquid equivalent of my favorite childhood candy the Nowarlater. We stayed on the second floor balcony for a little while. At one point we even gawked at the green stuffed gorilla rotating in the glass case for upwards of ten minutes. Manfrini even took a picture of the silly thing.
Being fresh upon the city made none of us wanted to stay in one place for too long. After finishing the drinks and pocketing the souvenir cups we took to the streets. Our next stop was Patty O’ Brien’s. We were drawn to the band playing inside. We found a spot on the rear porch however. We took seats near a fountain that emitted flames. The Captain, Perpy, and I made occasional trips inside to refuel and listen to the band. They turned out to be no more than a rogue cover band which consisted of a few decent musicians. Most of their songs were staples of AC/DC and Van Halen. Their female lead singer gave some of the edgier songs like Shook Me All Night Long and Panama a different flavor. Their back-up vocalist took up the onstage demeanor of Steven Tyler on an estrogen bender.
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