We slept in until 11am. Well, I did, Gay got up and went running. Most of everyone else went to brunch at Cane & Table (like Cain & Abel, get it?). Gay and I got ready, drank coffee and finally left by 1pm to go to the same place, who had just left, and had our own delicious brunch.
The weather was clear but chilly, similar to Seattle’s, about 50°F, thanks to a cold snap that hit the Midwest this week. Apparently, it’s normally 20°F warmer.
We walked around the French Quarter and then to Louis Armstrong Park, where a Gumbo festival was going on with a jazz concert, of course. We stayed there for a while and then walked across town to The Elysian Bar, a very stately bar for cocktails.
After a brief rest at our houses, we all went to Cochon and had a fantastic dinner.
We went back to the French Quarter and hung out on Frenchmen Street in Jazz clubs, got one of every hot dog (except the vegan one) from Dat Dog and we all ate them on the street outside the jazz clubs. Another 4am night for almost everyone.
No one is quite sure how it happened that Matt cut his eye right on his eyebrow. Gay always thinks stitches are necessary and convinced him to go to the emergency room. At 1:30am. Gay, Cathy and I got an Uber and we were off to the hospital. I had the brilliant idea to bring some beers along knowing we’d be waiting a while in a boring hospital.
I didn’t get through the metal detector because of the beer cans, the security guard opened my bag and told me that beer cans have to go around the metal detector. Duh! I walked through and the guard put the beer back in my bag. Southern hospitality! New Orleans’ casualness with public alcohol would soon be apparent to us all.
While in the operating room with Matt waiting for the doctor I passed out beers to the others but thought better of having my own until just before the doctor came in 30 minutes later. He kicked us out and outside the room I dropped my just-opened can and beer spilled all over the floor. Now what do I do?! Immediately someone yelled down the hall “Don’t worry, I’ll call it urine and have it cleaned up!” More southern hospitality!
New Orleans people are so friendly. The doctor knew we were out-of-towners and asked where we were from. I asked him how he got to New Orleans and he matter-of-factly explained “I met a girl online from New Orleans so I moved here, she turned out to be a man, then I met a real girl, got her pregnant and now I’m stuck.” It was an interesting night. We got home at 4:30am and everyone was asleep.