Lessons Learned in New Orleans

I posted on Thursday that I was being whisked away on a surprise trip by my dear husband. Well, we ended up in New Orleans, and the surprise didn’t stop there. He reunited me with two dear friends–Chris and Jill. Jill, as you may remember from my fruit fly post, was my most recent fly who unfortunately flew back home to Alabama and away from me–her fruit!

When we saw each other again this past Friday evening, the three and a half years of separation melted away as if they never existed. The four of us simply picked back up from the moment we said goodbye and never once missed a beat.

That moment was very special to me. At a time in my life when dear friends seem few and far between, it was nice to be reminded that I have true connections in this world–connections that link us together through time and space.

So in honor of our weekend in NOLA and of time spent with friends I miss dearly already, I wanted to share some lessons learned this weekend.

Lesson #1 True Friends Never Say Goodbye

  • To quote Stephen King, one of my favorite authors, from his novel Stand By Me: “Friends come in and out of your life like busboys in a restaurant.” Never than more recently in my life has this been true. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and befriending some wonderful individuals, each of whom has profoundly changed me for the better. To list them all and how I’ve grown would fill hundreds of blog posts, so I won’t even attempt that. But what I’ve learned after this weekend is that true friends are never gone from our lives. The busboy (friend) may depart your table (life) to attend to other duties (their lives), but a good busboy always returns to check the cleanliness of your table, to help clear away any accumulated mess or simply to check in on the status of your table. A true friend is like a good busboy–always in the periphery of your life and willing to return when summoned or needed. Thanks to Chris and Jill, I was reminded that even when you leave the restaurant, good friends remain on the menus of our lives.

Lesson #2 Gay Men Steal (or attempt to steal) Fruit Flies

  • In case you didn’t know, gay men are very protective of their fruit flies. It’s a relationship that’s almost as sacrosanct as marriage. When a gay man and straight woman bond, it’s till death do us part! Luckily, the husbands of our flies understand and are not threatened by the relationship. After all, we can’t steal (and don’t want to steal) their wives from them. BUT flies are in danger of being stolen by other fruits. It’s a gay man’s worst nightmare and one that I relieved this weekend! Some shirtless queen sashayed over to my fly, talking about “how gorgeous and fierce she is.” Compliments to my fly don’t intimidate me because, well, they are typically true: she is gorgeous and fierce, but the look in his eye was more than just pure admiration of her awesomeness. He was looking at my fly as if he was a fly trap trying to derive a way of making her his own. When I realized what was happening, I was like “Homo, please!” and sent him on his way. Thanks to the Shirtless Wonder, I stayed close to my fly the rest of the night. There was no way I was letting another fruit get illusions of grandeur about stealing this fruit’s fly!

Lesson #3 Beware of Motorboating Waitresses!

  • When a generously endowed waitress shoved my friend’s face between her breasticles, I thought it was hilarious. Even though he had a good time, I knew she had an agenda. The motorboat led to two shots, which led to her demanding money for her services. I was on to her game and promptly turned from her. I had no intention of finding myself suffocating between her “fleshy pillows” (Another quote from Stephen King; this time from Carrie.) This woman, however, was shrewd. Like a true motorboat, she circled the pond and went into stealth mode. Before I knew what was happening, my face was shoved between her mounds of flesh and she was attempting to force feed me two shot vials. Luckily for me, I’m immune to the charms of breasticles. My lips remained shut and nary a drop of liquor entered my mouth. She was denied her sale, and I sent her back into the pond for far easier fish. So, for anyone who goes to the French Quarter, watch out for big busted waitresses. Their milkshakes aren’t free!

Lesson #4 Flip Flops and the French Quarter Don’t Mix

  • If you’ve ever been to the French Quarter, you know how nasty and disgusting the streets are. If you haven’t been, well, just imagine strolling across pavement filled with an assortment of body fluids and you might get a snapshot of the whole disgusting picture. Though the streets are power washed daily, no amount of water can sanitize the nastiness, especially when you see how frothy and brown the water gets as attempts to clean it are made. Still, despite watching someone spew bodily fluids the night before, people actually walked through the streets during the day wearing flip flops. Really? Do they not realize that whatever liquid they walk through will be splashed across the backs of their bare legs. That’s just inviting a staph infection–or worse! When strolling through the French Quarter, always wear sneakers or footwear you don’t mind disposing of when you get home.

Lesson #5 Gay Bar + Football = A Good Time For All

  • I’m not a football fan; however, if football had been presented to me as it was this weekend, I just might have learned to like it. We watched the LSU/Alabama game at a gay bar, and I had a great time. I don’t know if it was the game or the go-go boys on the bar dancing, but it was the most fun I’ve ever had watching a televised sport (well, except maybe for figure skating or gymnastics!) I didn’t know what the score was most of the time or why people were booing or cheering, but I booed and cheered along with them–in between sips of my cocktails and ogling the barely clad boys. So, if you find yourself having to do something you normally don’t enjoy doing, throw in some alcohol and exposed flesh of whatever gender gets you going, and you’ll be having a blast in no time!

All in all, the New Orleans trip was a success! I learned to value true friendship, to forever guard my fly from fallen fruits, to be wary of waitresses sporting too much cleavage, to wear appropriate foot ware in NOLA, and to add alcohol and go-go boys to every event!

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