While at Mardi Gras this past weekend, I learned a few things and did a few things. Certain sections of this column are no doubt only applicable when acted upon in New Orleans, while others, I feel, can be handy in almost any situation.
Bring laxatives—extra strength if necessary. Eating rabbit and sausage jambalaya is sort of like having guests over for a holiday party. At first, everything is spotless and in place, but then your guests arrive and get plastered, refusing to leave. And when they do leave, the mess that remains will remind you that holiday parties are best hosted once a year.
Take a Recreational Vehicle. Remember that while lying in the bed at the back of the RV, the slightest bump will be overstated. The ride to and from New Orleans will be rough—think Bolivia’s infamous North Yungas Road (“Road of Death”) or the back roads of Afghanistan.
Find a place to stay on Craigslist. It will be much cheaper and may, possibly, give you something else to talk about on your return home. For instance, my temporary home had a samurai sword on a glass shelf, an issue of Barely Legal magazine tucked between the pages of a birthday astrology book (oh joy!) and fake severed arms and legs hidden in the closet. All true. On second thought, maybe don’t use Craigslist.
Make sure to try two of the most popular and potent drinks found at Mardi Gras: a Hurricane and a Hand Grenade. Both concoctions are rather sweet and can give you a stomachache if consumed too quickly. This may produce one of a variety of rather unattractive expressions on your face so Be Wise—Drink and Smize.
Along the same lines, make sure to keep track of the time as New Orleans is allergic to sleep, and bars are open 24 hours. Word of advice: If the sun is rising, you need to take your drunk self home.
If, however, you have forgotten your watch and start for home in the early morning, make sure to stop at Cafe Du Monde and pick up some beignets (a powdered French pastry). Important: The ground surrounding Cafe Du Monde is blanketed in white powder. While waiting on your order, make sure to stand lest your bottom looks like Tony Montana’s most loyal buyer.
Get some sleep. I cannot emphasize this enough. You’re on vacation!!
Fall in love! And by love I mean lust. For me, his name was Eric... I think. My friend claims that I’m wrong. We met on an iron rail in a bar called Pat O’Briens. “Eric,” from Tennessee, said he liked to write short stories, a passion true to my heart. When he had to go, my heart packed up its belongings and left with him. True, it’s a possibility that as the night progressed my 10-minute relationship with “Eric” became more and more exaggerated—“he was my first boyfriend,” “I wonder if he wants to have a Fall or Spring wedding,” but what’s love if not a fairy tale (emphasis on fairy)?
On the issue of getting beads—of course you can do that, but just keep in mind that Mardi Gras isn’t what it used to be. According to a U.S. Census on computers and Internet use from 2003, roughly 55 percent of all households in the United States have a computer with Internet-access. So unless you want to end up on XTube, keep your ish together.
Of course you can always do what I did. Proceed to walk around from person to person asking for beads because it’s “what ‘Eric’ would have wanted.” Say this mournfully enough, and you will reap the benefits of other’s drunken sympathy over an imagined loss.
If it wasn’t obvious already, take friends. Good friends. They are just as important in New Orleans as they are in Durham.
Thomas Gebremedhin is a Trinity senior. His column runs every other Thursday.
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