Before Katrina, Ed and I took a Caribbean cruise with our best friends. The highlight of the cruise was two days in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. None of us had been to Mardi Gras before and were looking forward to the festivities. Upon leaving the ship we were thrust into huge crowds everywhere. An early observation was that alcohol consumption was high and inhibitions were low. Everywhere people wore colorful Mardi Gras beads with one significant difference. Most people were tastefully draped with just a few strands of beads while others seemed to have too many to count around their necks. If you followed the men and women with beads in bulk you didn’t have to walk far before they proudly displayed body parts to the crowd. For their generous flash the crowds rewarded them generously with even more beads. In the late afternoon the four of us were dragging. We wanted to find a quiet place to sit down and get away from the crowds which seemed elusive. As we passed a well-known gay bar called “Good Friends”, we could easily see inside because they had all their french doors wide open. They weren’t that busy and we found a haven at the bar. It was a relief to get out of the crowds, ordered drinks and enjoyed our little island of tranquility.
About 30 minutes later, three attractive men wearing nothing but gym socks came out of the back and went to their prearranged locations. One man went to either end of the bar (one towering over the four of us) and the third climbed onto a pool table in the middle of the floor. All three of them started moving with the music. We tried to ignore the interruption at first but that was impossible because his hunk of burning love kept swinging in and out of our sight line. Being chatty by nature, I asked the man if there was a reason his penis was larger than a baby’s arm. His response was classic. He told me: “I grew up next to nuclear waste dump”. He then told us we were free to handle his handle. Not knowing where that puppy had been and having forgotten my Handi-Wipes back on the ship, I demurred. I won’t speak for the others in our small group.
Our discussion with our new friends was interrupted by a woman’s scream behind us. We turned around to see a group of four middle aged women who came into the bar to more closely inspect the man standing on the pool table. The dancer was clearly performing for them and allowed them to touch his masculinity. As each woman fondled the man, they screamed and ran back to the french door opening where their male companions were waiting. One woman loudly asked her male companion why he couldn’t be that large. They would then return to the pool table.
After finishing our drinks, we made our way back to the quiet of the ship to recover from our day out. I threw out my shoes because of the fluids that flooded the streets, took a shower and went to an early dinner.