seaslug

Don't post when you're tired

I've worked 72 hours this week. My employees, for the most part, are idiots. I've been out of clean underwear for two days and I don't care. I doubt I'll do laundry tomorrow either since I'm going to work another 12 hours then.

I've only just realized this is Mardi Gras weekend. Today was the Endymion parade. The biggest and my favorite. My old roommate, when I lived in New Orleans, Carol, loved Mardi Gras. Hell, so did I. We used to hit the afternoon parades in center city and then head out to Metarie that evening for the entire two weeks before the big day. On Fat Tuesday itself we'd get as close to Washington and St. Charles as possible so we could catch both Rex and Zulu without getting caught up in the Project crowd and the poor saps coming down from around Lee Circle. We would stay for the truck floats, too.

Carol was a big doubloon collector. She would struggle and claw her way among the fiercest, jumping up against the floats trying to get a complete set from that year's parade. The old rule of never reaching down to pick up a doubloon on the street but, rather, stepping on it first, definitely applied with Carol. She'd break your fingers under her shoes without a thought. She had no problem flashing her tits either. Anything for the almighty doubloon. Out in Metarie they usually threw doubloons from other krewes from other years but sometimes Carol was able to fill a gap in her collection. Once I became a cop I started working at all the city parades. Of course I took care of Carol, coming home with complete sets, including the rarest from the big parades - Rex, Bacchus, and, of course, Endymion. I'd just walk up to one of the parade officers while he swayed drunkenly on his horse before parade time and ask. It made me happy to see Carol's face when I would pull out several of the coveted black Bacchus doubloons. Those were damn good days.

I'm at that level of tired where I'm spending a lot of my time reviewing the string of poor choices that brought me to this shit hole town, working my ass off to accomplish meaningless goals, and overseeing yokels with whom I have absolutely nothing in common. I'm sick of snow and the cold of winter and I need to wrap this up and get some sleep because I'm having those thoughts exhausted people have, of throwing a suitcase in the car, leaving everything else behind, and seeing how far I can get on $1000. I could probably make it to New Orleans in time to get a Zulu coconut.
  • Current Mood: voulez vous bon temp roulez
As I told you last night, I've missed you.

Do you remember Immo from the channel? She used to do Mardi Gras every year with her first husband. One year, she showed up at my place with two duffel bags spilling over with beads. I donated them to my son's childcare as he wasn't really into wearing necklaces (he is now, but he calls it 'bling' and I'm certain this phase will pass).

I don't imagine you stayed up for American Dad? Seth McFarlane's latest effort. Looks promising.