Boy's Best Moment

It's been quite a while since I posted, long enough to deserve a slap on the wrist. But on the upside, I've been keeping up pretty well with TheVicariousFoodwhore.com, which is more career-building than this, which, as I say often, is more for cathartic purposes, just to purge my mind of unpleasantness and such.

What's my excuse? Two words: Mardi Gras.

This year's Carnival festivities were really awesome. One of my closest girl friends, the first friend I made on my own in New Orleans, who ended up being one of my sorority sisters, stayed with us and brought her new boyfriend with her. Hooray for that. Friends were in from out of town, which was also fun, and for a very long weekend, I felt like I was on vacation. Double huzzah.

However, this year's Mardi Gras was still a far cry from the Mardi Gras of my college days, which was especially sad since I was with my college friends. I was the least drunk of any group I was with, considering I wasn't at all drunk during the entire weekend. Shameful. However, I was determined to make this Mardi Gras a memorable one for The Boy, since last year's was a whole lot of fun, but not as fun as it could be considering that it was basically just him and me for the season. With all these people in town, I forced him to socialize, and the fact that he'd made some friends helped, too. So when he was invited to a balcony party on Bourbon Street, he went with my blessing.

I was not to know that he was going to be returned to me a hilarious but pathetic disaster.

Parties at the Royal Sonesta tend to be pretty raucous and swank. Open bars, luxurious trappings, and high quality accommodations, from what I remember of the party I'd gone to several years back with some random Sigma Chi alumni. The Boy was good for a while, drinking, flinging beads, ogling tourist boobs (also with my blessing ... he's so tame, devoted, and generally well-behaved most of the time that it seems almost unfair to veto any non-physical contact good times that may come his way), and being the frat boy he never was. And more power to him. I wanted him to enjoy himself.

Well, enjoy himself he did. He started off on a good note, with our bartender friend fixing all the drinks. Exceptionally talented, everything she makes is light, well-mixed, and delicious. This was all good, since he knows how much he can drink and it doesn't hit like a Mack truck. Unfortunately, the drinks he makes do.

I've known him for eight long years, and in that time, I have never seen him so sloppy and utterly sloshed. He'd ridden his bike downtown with his friends (to avoid traffic and driving drunk, both of which are wise choices) and by the time he called me for a ride, he was sad and confused. When I asked where he was, he asked me to hold on, then promptly hung up.

Now I was getting ready to mock him when I got to him at this point, since I've never known him to get irresponsibly drunk. How many times have I heard his lecturing on "safety" and warnings against getting totally wasted? More times than I can count. I couldn't wait to throw this in his face. It was going to be fun.

I finally found him and our friends in the Central Business District of downtown New Orleans, after much instruction and aid of Patrick, collapsed over his bike, not even able to sit on it, and barely able to keep his eyes open. This was not nearly as funny as I thought it was going to be at the present time.

He was able to sleep it all off, though, and we had a lovely Mardi Gras day relaxing and doing random-Tuesday-off things. And through all of that, it did end up actually being laughable, with the extreme role reversal and the fact that I've never, ever known him to be so blatheringly incoherent and incapacitated. And now, I'm telling everyone. :)

N.O. Sense

In most cities, towns, and villages throughout the U.S., public transportation is encouraged. With the growing concern over global warming and focus on green initiatives, this is a great thing, and it gives areas more opportunities to public works systems to make money during local festivals.

Well, in New Orleans, Mardi Gras is the biggest thing since sliced French bread, and in order for the parades to safely march down the famous St. Charles Avenue, the streetcars have to stop rolling down the median (a.k.a. in local lingo, the "neutral ground"). That makes sense; sure. I mean, you can't have hundred year-old trolleys running people down. That would never do for tourism.

So with this form of public transportation obviously impossible, you would think that the NORTA (the transportation authority) would have a contingency plan, up their available buslines, post their holiday schedules, or something along those lines. After all, with thousands upon thousands of people converging in one general direction to one pretty narrow band of the city, a good deal of money can be made by the RTA, and they'd be doing a good thing for the environment, too, by offering the option of busses. We all know that taxis are impossible to get during this time, and parking is a hellish experience, one that can cost you an entire parade's worth of throws if you happen to get stuck behind anyone that can't parallel park effectively or press your luck trying to find a spot closer to the center of the action. The entire Garden District and downtown area is effectively congested to the point that getting anywhere powered by anything other than your own two feet is not even an idea worth entertaining.

Apparently, the conclusions I've drawn about what Mardi Gras could mean in terms of smart city management and business are beyond the powers that be. I called the NORTA last week to find out about their bus schedule for the next two weeks, so that me and my group would have an idea of where to go and how to get there. Even though the parades started *last week*, they didn't have a holiday schedule up yet, and I was advised to check back Friday, February 13. Today.

Okay, fine.

Remembering this, I check the RTA's web site for an update. Except there isn't one. All there is is a note saying that the streetcars would not be running (welll, duh) and would be brought back to their main stations at 5:30. Cool. Somewhat useful, although not really.

Since there's no information on the site, I call the NORTA, and speak to a lady who tells me that -- get this! -- they cannot release the Mardi Gras bus information to the public.

Umm ... wtf?! Is it just me, or does that seem to defeat the entire purpose of, uh, "public transportation?"

My mind, at this point, is completely boggled. I tell her nicely that I'm sorry, but there is absolutely no way they can't release the bus schedule. Aside from Fat Tuesday, people still work, and there are many, three in my office alone, that rely on the New Orleans buses to get them from A to B.

Her amended response? "I guess people have to call in. We don't have a schedule we can give out, but we can tell people if the bus they need is still running."

Again ... what?!

That, to me, is the mark of inefficiency. What the heck is the point of keeping a public route and schedule for the public private? Does New Orleans want everyone to battle it out for parking for the parades and take their own cars instead of putting money back into the city system?

N.O. sense ... an oxymoron one way, and a true statement the other. Go figure, because my brain hurts right now.