Tuesday, April 19, 2005

You can remove my feeding tube now.

This weekend I was in New Orleans. I stayed through Monday and now I am back at work and its Tuesday and I am officially braindead. Somehow I actually get work done like this. When I'm not braindead I am aware of how much work sucks. Right now I simply hate being conscious and doing work is like being dead. So be it. New Orleans is an absurd place. If you can escape the Bourbon street bullshit, it's an amazing city. On Friday night I flew in late, got hammered and lost my wallet on Bourbon Street, driver's license and all. Losing a wallet on Bourbon Street is like dropping a half-eaten doughnut into a pit full of rats. The thing is gone. Get over it. That is what I did. I went back to my friend's hotel where I was not even a registered guest and sat there dejected realizing no driver's license or anything means I am, by law, a "vagrant"...and I won't be leaving New Orleans on my flight either. After seeing in New Orleans some of the most depressing vagrants ever- literally dudes who were covered in dirt- I had the sudden realization that I was now going to be one of those people. Damn. Then by some miracle of God I discovered that some angel had found my wallet on the street, and using the small piece of paper on which I scribbled the hotel name, had brought it to the front desk of the hotel, who I had called (I still don't remember why I called them). Amazing. Although the cash was gone and I had already cancelled my ATM card, I was no longer a "vagrant". Soon I borrowed some cash and quadrupled it at Harra's casino. That process continued all weekend. At times I would find myself being transported instantanously from handing a stripper a twenty-dollar bill to being asked by a Blackjack dealer if I want to hit or stay. Of course, it was a bit confusing when I got the two scenarios mixed up and shoved a twenty-dollar bill down a blackjack dealer's pants and asked a stripper to hit me. She did. As I collapsed backwards, feeling somewhat aroused as I lost consciousness, I heard her say it..."Blackjack".

2 Comments:

Blogger Drake Studebake chirped...

you write like a drunken housewife from new rochelle.

craka

11:23 AM  
Blogger Tempo Casual chirped...

I think you read like a drunken housewife from New Rochelle. By the way, capult freakly sucks.

4:32 PM  

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