So I was supposed to fly nonstop from Chicago to New Orleans at 2:25 on Wednesday. Accordingly, I checked in for my flight online 24 hours prior and found out that the 7:00 am flight had been cancelled. Even worse, that was the only one of the three flights that was a large plane and not an American Eagle. So all those passengers wound up on my flight. That resulted in my plane being booked at 65/65. After some quick replanning, I decided to change my schedule. First, I took all of Wednesday off from work instead of just half the day. I woke up at 3:30 am and caught a seat on the 6 AM flight. I was a little disconcerted by the 300-pound woman sitting in front of me who saw fit to lean her seat back before we even took off. But anyway. I did see a Jets fan and offered my sympathies. We were ready to leave the gate, but there was a fuel leak and we had to get a new plane. That delayed us maybe an hour and fifteen minutes. So we had to board a new plane. And as I walked through the first class section, there was Jet guy! I figured they upgraded him to first class out of sympathy. Anyway, I got to Dallas and it just served to shorten my layover, so no problem there. I wolfed down a steak taco and a chicken taco at Urban tacos before boarding the 12:05 plane to New Orleans. There were maybe ten open seats, so it wasn't that hard. And considering I was going to take a 2:30 plane out of Chicago initially, I landed about 3 hours sooner that what I had planned.
As I stepped into the terminal, I had to make sure I wasn't in Detroit. There were mobs of people sporting Univ. of Michigan attire. They had just beaten Virginia Tech in a bowl game the night before. I felt some trepidation as I waited for my bag. Since it was taken at the gate and had to connect to a second light, it just didn't sit well with me. Eventually, it arrived and I headed to the Airport shuttle desk. The lady called me "Honey" at least three times and "Darlin'" I think twice. I sat down right behind the driver's seat and noticed a good-looking athletic blonde sitting across from me. I recognized her from the Dallas flight, she was across from me then. We chatted and I found out she was Rebecca Bennett, and she does news report and podcasts for K-Love Radio. So that led to talks about travel, church, and so on.
Now there were 15 people on the bus and we had no idea who was getting dropped off when. When the driver said "De La Monnie" I pumped my fist and couldn't help but laugh with Rebecca and Gene, an older guy from Iowa who sat between us.
So I arrived at the hotel somewhere around 2:15. Catherine came downstairs and we shared a hug before heading upstairs. This is a really old hotel, doesn't have much size, it's more about the location right on the border of the French Quarter and Fauborg while the Riverfront streetcar line begins less than a block away. I gave Nicole a hug when I saw her too and after I unpacked my stuff, we all headed straight to the French Market. There were tons of t-shirts (Mostly Saints and trashy stuff), records, hats, jewelry, and so on. For my first drink, I went with a rum spiced cider for six bucks. It's a good drink to warm up with, but the rum added a sour taste that I wasn't in love with. We continued to stroll down Decatur St and I saw Cafe Du Monde, St. Luois Cathedral, Jackson Square, the Cabildo, the Presbytere, and the Jackson St Brewery. Still saw loads of Va Tech and Michigan gear. We headed back to Room 312 to clean up.
Around 5:45, we left to walk to Irene's, a very popular Italian restaurant near our hotel. Nicole said she knew where she was going, so I left my maps behind. I shouldn't have. We wound up on Bourbon St and when we asked a cop for directions, he pointed us in the wrong direction. So it was a 6 pm reservation and we arrived maybe 20 minutes late. But the maitre'd and the owner all greeted us warmly, asked our names, and shook our hands. Catherine started with some escargot and one glass of Sauvignon Blanc. I knew I was getting an entree and a dessert, so I opted for iced tea. And the complimentary bruschetta was awesome. Melted mozzarella, fresh tomato sauce, soft and crispy bread. That's the way it should be! I ordered a duck with a raspberry and pancetta glaze with glazed nuts along with a mashed sweet potatoes and fresh spinach. I enjoyed the crisp skin and I also liked that the duck wasn't too greasy. The sweet potato had a very nice rich flavor too. Catherine went with the roast chicken and Nicole took some veal marsala. For dessert, Nicole got bread pudding, Catherine got a chocolate truffle, and I went with a Creole cheesecake with a Grand Marnier glaze. I liked mine, but wasn't exactly blown away.
So we asked for the check and I figured I would have to throw in maybe 40-45 bucks. Our waiter, Rob, informed us that the check was already picked up. It turned out Nicole's mom made the reservation and also picked up the bill. I was kicking myself! I wished I had some Pinot Noir or Merlot! No, just boring iced tea. But in truth, it was a great gesture.
From there, we went over to Bourbon St, it must have been 8:30 by now. Our first stop was the Tropical Isle for a grenade. Catherine had warmed me about this drink, about how potent it was. We split a large one on the rocks. It came in a tall light, green glass that looked like an actual grenade. The recipe is kept secret, but I hear it's a blend of melon liquer, gin, rum, vodka, and grain liquor, all served in equal parts. Amazingly, it tasted very sweet. I could have probably drank another with no problem. I did opt for an Abita Amber beer, a local brew that I enjoyed. At one point, I had to use the men's room. On my way over there I passed by this machine on the wall, it looked like a typical gumball machine. Except there wasn't any candy in this particular machine. I looked at the sign and it said "grenade flavored condoms". Moving on...
Bourbon St has its own dangerous charm to it. There are just things there that can't be found anywhere else. Lots of performers standing totally still, painted from head to toe. One of them was colored totally silver, had a really long beard. And he was sitting prone, looking down, kind of sad I thought. Then I looked again, there was a long purple balloon sticking out from where it shouldn't have been. Just another one of those OMG sights. And I also liked that we could walk by the clubs and hear live blands playing everything from classic rock to blues to country. It's a cool area to be in, thought I think I would pass on Mardi Gras and New Year's Eve.
So we got back to the hotel around 10. I knew I was sleeping in the creepy room. There was room for nothing except a bed, a tiny nightstand, and an old TV hanging from the ceiling. There wasn't even enough space on the floor for me to open my suitcase completely, there wasn't even a lock on the door. And the doors fold open, kind of like a bedroom closet. Not the most ideal situation, but hey, there was a bed at least! I was probably in bed by midnight, though I had some company by around 4 AM...
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