Alright so I touched on the bad experiences of the my “bar habit” with the whole waking up in a hospital bed and what not, but how about the good that came out of this time? As often happened, I found myself sitting in our local drinking spot, called the “Brickhouse”, one night with a friend. The “Brickhouse” is a local dive bar owned by a friend’s “fake mom”, where you may find off duty cops, paramedics, coroner body removal teams, very large bearded bikers, and men of questionable background; all drinking, playing pool, and throwing darts. However, no matter who was there, one thing was guaranteed, a safe, non-judgmental place with cold beer and friends. My friend, Jolynn and I go way back to the days I started as a paramedic in the City of Youngstown, when she was “my medic student”. At this point, we found ourselves becoming closer and closer friends, with her recent divorce and my heartbrokenness as commoninality. We realized very quick that we could rely on each other and that no matter the time of day or night we could call each other and just complain about the struggles we currently faced in our lives. This night we were sitting at the bar talking as we normally would about how unhappy we were, the normal, “there has to be more to life than this sadness and loneliness we are facing”, “we have so much we want to do but don’t know how.” We both reached a point that night, with the correct portions of alcohol and heartache, of saying “fuck it” and started jotting down on a bar napkin a list of places we both wanted to go. Number one on both of our lists was New Orleans. Number two was Key West but more on that later! So after several more beers that night we began planning; Cheap flight with questionable leg room…. check, Lodging…. Check, in the form of an Air B&B with no idea if it was a good spot to be in or not. Now what to do? Obviously Bourbon street made the list (which we later found to be a HUGE mistake and a wonderful idea in the same breath.) but any further then that we decided we would figure it out when we got there. Tickets were purchased, reservations made and it was finalized, all that night, we were going.

Day One

The day finally came and we headed to the airport. We started drinking early, made it through security, boarded the plane and sat down. The Plane headed down the runway with me jamming out to “Highway to the Danger Zone” (which would become a bit of a ritual of sorts. No shame in this Top Gun Fan) and we were off! The first thing Jolene says to me is, “We have to take a ‘Boomerang’, I’ve always been wanting to do it on a trip.” Now me, not being so hip to my generation’s trends, had absolutely no clue what she was talking about, so I just went along with it and this is what we made!

A little over two hours and several overly priced drinks later, we land in New Orleans. We came to find out later at what was the “old airport” terminal and, like a little kid, I kept repeating “Oh my god I can’t believe we are here and we actually did it!” Looking back maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I thought; who knows. This was only round one of the drinking marathon that was to ensue. We walk from the plane, taking pictures with every interesting stature and art sculpture we pass. We order an Uber and head towards the AirB&B. As we drive through the city the Uber driver plays tour guide, pointing out the areas affected by Hurricane Katrina some 15 years prior. “This bridge was completely under water. There is the Super Dome. Those houses were completely gone”. I’m sure every other tourist that has been in the back of his car wanted to hear these things and you could tell he was just playing the role that he was suppose to from experience for the tips. Then, I asked him a question that I now ask anyone when I am somewhere new: “Where do you go on your days off?” He stopped a second and began telling us about these restaurants and bars that he thought we should try and you could see a light in his eyes. This is something that I have noticed happens when you ask someone who is local anywhere about “their city”. This is especially true about food in their city, majority of the time they are more than willing to share their secret spots and when its an uber driver or a bartender you will never be disappointed. Anyway, as we get closer to the AirB&B the driver’s demeanor once again begins to change; saying that he would avoid the area just beyond our rental because it’s not the best neighborhood. As we make it to our destination he lets us off in front of the house and drives off oddly quickly. The house is a beautiful green color with a rod iron fence and multiple security doors with realtor lockboxes on all of them. We follow the directions down the side of the house, retrieve our single set of keys from the lockbox, and let ourselves in as if on some kind of scavenger hunt. I joked with Jolynn to not lose the keys, as if I would have been anymore responsible, and we found a beautiful house. We unloaded our bags, change clothes, and headed out for our first night in town, what could possibly go wrong?

We were so proud of ourselves because we found public transportation passes for super cheap and realized that we could ride the trolleys into the French Quarter for only a few dollars. So we hopped on the trolly and let it whisk us to our inevitable demise! We hit Bourbon street and realized that we haven’t eaten the entire day…. which just amounts to poor planning on our parts given the copious amounts of alcohol we planned on consuming… Liver plan on a workout! Jolynn and I decided we wanted to try seafood gumbo so we stop in the first tourist trap we find, and order a three bowl sampler with gumbo, red beans and rice, and jambalaya. Come to find out none of it was comparably any good, but we didn’t know any better and would have eaten cardboard if it would have been filling. As the food comes to the table Jolene proceeds to inform me that she has been allergic to shellfish in the past….. wait what the hell!?! I admittedly was instantly flooded with thoughts of a trip ending anaphylactic reactions and waiting on New Orleans EMS to arrive to the end of Bourbon Street; a couple of idiot tourists taken out early in our trip. I can only imagine what the floor staff thought as they saw Jolynn slowly place the tip of her tongue to the shrimp and see if anything happened… nothing. A few minutes later she attempted a small bite…. again nothing. Finally several minutes into our food being at the table she takes a whole bite and we laugh at the humor of the entire situation and proceed to finish all three bowls in record time! We head out of the restaurant and feel like we conquered the first obstacle put in our way. We head down the street as it gets dark and are amazed by the live music, open drunkenness, and the quantity of bars. We are asked if we want weed or coke more than I believe either of us have ever been in the first block, and the smell of urine that everyone talks about, we realize, is 100% accurate! Come to find out the city washes the road down with fire hoses every morning and let me tell you it’s completely needed!

The night proceeds on, and at some point I am well enough intoxicated to be convinced by Jolynn that going to a “drag show” would be a good idea. After about 30 minutes of being in the bar, with very large men dressed as women, dancing around, I was laughing and having a great time (even if a bit uncomfortable still)! As in normal fashion, Jolynn and I end up finding a bar with a great live band, ice cold drinks, and a decent crowd. We decided we were going to stay here and enjoy ourselves. While sitting at the bar listening to the band I notice an attractive girl standing by herself on the opposite side of the room and bet Jolynn that she was there by herself (I did win this bet). At this point I should take a moment and applaud Jolene for her amazing ‘wingman’ skills. She, single handedly, as helped me talk to more people I have been interested in then anyone else!! #NOTALLHEROSWEARCAPES# I have to admit that I find it a bit interesting, how when I am traveling, I can openly talk to anyone I want to; without the self-consciousness and fear I feel when I am at home. Let me tell you, social anxiety is a real thing and travel melts that away for me! So, a little while later we discover there is a balcony at this bar and head upstairs. To my surprise the girl from earlier is standing there by herself and I strike up a conversation with her. Immediately, I begin to melt because of a very heavy Australian accent. (come to find out later on I’m about as useless as a chocolate teapot, the moment I hear an australian accent) I make sure to, very early, interject that Jolynn and I are best friends just traveling together. After several drinks and A LOT of ‘beads’ she tells me that she’s from Australia and is traveling the United States by herself. I can help but think “how adventurous?!” She agrees to spend the rest of the evening with Jolynn and I, and throws into the conversation that she has never done shots or been to a strip club. Let me start by saying that this, right here, was the moment that the night went entirely sideways. Up until this moment, we were being very responsible, albeit a bit intoxicated. However, when an attractive, Australian accented girl tells me that she wants to do shots and go to a strip club, I CAN NOT, any longer, be held responsible for the outcome of the night! So to start her off easy let the Cherry Bombs flow! Jolynn and I split up around this time because… well you know….and agree to meet up later at said strip club. Now, withholding a few details, the night actually ended with myself and the Australian friend receiving an uber ride back to the AirB&B, (God Bless her) me attempting to break into the AirB&B, because the single key from earlier I talked about was not with me but with Jolynn, and waking up in a hotel to the panicked phone calls from from Jolynn. She was worrying that I was dead on the side of the road, because she kept the house key! We regroup a few hours later, rinse the confusion and hangover from our eyes, and realizing, to absolute horror, that I spent almost $800 dollars in the strip club with the Australian friend following the cherry bombs! Problem is, I only allotted $1,000 dollars for the entire week there and this was ONLY day one! The good news is payday was at the end of the week and luckily I am a pro at the Payday Olympics! So, needless to say “Drunk me” can NOT be trusted! We head back to bed, safely in the AirB&B and vow to not let this happen again! The best part of this entire story is “Australian Girl” and I are still friends to this day and still laugh about that night!

End of Part One. Part two will be posted soon and continue after my panic of losing ALL my money, and with waking up to go get tacos!