Saturday was the day that I planned to get out the DSLR and take some big girl pictures. What’s the point of lugging the damned thing across the country if you’re not going to put it to use? Of course, once I was dressed and ready, DSLR strapped around my neck, I heard, to my chagrin, heavy rain beginning. Thinking it would taper off in 15 minutes or so, I waited… and waited. When it didn’t taper off, I decided to take an hour’s nap! By the time my nap was finished, it had seemed to lighten up quite a bit. I had my umbrella, anyway.
I made a final dash through The French Market. There still weren’t any voodoo dolls made of Spanish moss! What the heck, people?! Someone mentioned that the ones made of Spanish moss were notorious for having chiggers. Mine didn’t and neither did the ones that I’d bought for friends in the past. The “new” style simply doesn’t do it for me. Someone suggested that I make my own, but I’m no voodoo priestess; nor do I have access to Spanish moss! I gave up and bought a few of the ones made of twigs and stones. Then to avoid the rain, which had started again, I actually took a gander at what else was for sale in there. As an Eiffel Tower fanatic, I couldn’t pass up the Eiffel Tower trinket box. Nothing else was a must-have, however.
Back over in Jackson Square, I dashed into Shushan’s because the cutest Swarovski-laden bunny purse seemed to be calling my name. Priced at over $200, though, I decided to play deaf. Instead I found 2 other New Orleans-esque items that made a fashion statement – a steampunk top hat and a pair of “platform” slippers with Swarovski crystals and a fleur-de-lys on each. I’ve long been admiring steampunk top hats at festivals in San Francisco. They’re usually leather and in the vicinity of $250 and up. This one, though not leather, was a steal in comparison. I bought the slippers because my canvas shoes were soaked and wearing my regular slippers wouldn’t help much. The height of these slippers would help me avoid some puddles, at the very least.
By now, it was lunch time again. My cousin, who’d been to New Orleans a month ago, had suggested getting crab cakes at Pierre Maspero’s. It may have been due to the rain, but the place was ridiculousness in there. I couldn’t handle it, so went back to K-Paul’s instead. I ordered a bowl of gumbo and a meatloaf po’ boy, not aware that it came with potato salad. I had to have a spicy Bloody Mary as well. Lunch at K-Paul’s was NOT cheap! The gumbo was $5.00, the Bloody Mary was $10.00 and the po’ boy was $13.00! I should have skipped both the gumbo and the Bloody Mary. The gumbo was fine flavor-wise, but wasn’t thick enough. Didn’t they start that with a roux or what?! The potato salad was kinda’ soupy and the Bloody Mary was too spicy for me to finish. The po’ boy was good, but actually simply tasted like a cheeseburger. In other words, skip lunch at K-Paul’s, but do go for dinner.
Exploring further in the French Quarter, I later came upon Voodoo Authentica (or something like that) that had many Spanish moss voodoo and other dolls. Their voodoo dolls were much more expensive and were geared to specific wishes. My cousin had wanted a “general” one and besides, I’d already given up and bought those at The French Market.
Bambi de Ville on Royal Street used to be a shop specializing in prints. Now they have vintage (i.e. used) clothing. Having worn hand-me-downs for ages, I’ve never been a fan of vintage clothing. Bambi, however, had a fantabulous collection of perfectly preserved, exquisite dresses for reasonable prices, considering the quality. I was almost tempted to try a few on, but thought better of it. I keep telling myself that I’ll probably be having some clothes tailored in Thailand, so do NOT need to be buying any at this time.
Back at the apartment, I dropped off my purchases, freshened up and rested. Before long, I got antsy again.
Just down the street was Kingfish. I walked in to a pianist playing in the bar area, as well as party hats atop the piano. When I asked the bartender whose birthday it was, he replied “Huey Long,” who just happened to be their namesake. I don’t know the history, but believe he was a politician whose nickname was Kingfish. As I downed a few glasses of Prosecco, the 3 people next to me asked where I was from. They were from Cali, too – San Diego – and come to New Orleans once or twice a year. We talked restaurants and bars awhile; they were getting ready to have dinner at the French Market Restaurant, which just happens to be across the street from The French Market.
Once they left, I made my way back to Pierre Maspero’s and squeezed in at the bar for dinner. Aric was my very competent server/bartender. As per my cousin’s suggestion, I ordered the crab cakes, plus a shrimp Caesar salad. The crab cakes were big and meaty, seemingly with little filler. To me, the sauce was rather like Thousand Island, which I like. They were good, but I’ve had better. The shrimp Caesar was also good; the shrimp were served warm, since they were grilled. I had a beer and somehow struck up a conversation with the 3 guys on my left. Of course, they were in town for Southern Decadence. The one closest to me was Filipino, but (like me) doesn’t speak a word of any Filipino dialect! I believe he was from San Diego and had lived in San Francisco for a year before moving to New York, which he found much more exciting. When one of his friends mentioned something about wanting to go out and get a fleur-de-lys tattoo, I showed him mine – a Christmas present from my ex-husband, even after we were divorced!
By that time, I was ready to brave Bourbon Street awhile. I went into my preferred drinking hole, Krazy Korner, and watched some live R&B band. The couple standing in front of my table was incredibly drunk, mainly the woman. She kept apologizing for blocking my view and bumping into me, hugging me every time. Then she showed me her T-shirt, of which she was very proud. It said “I love my hot husband!” He was pretty proud, too!
I continued onwards to the bar at Muriel’s Restaurant, which was being hosted by a female bartender on this evening. When I asked HER if the bar was haunted, she replied affirmatively. She said that many, many times in her 8 years of employ there, bottles had routinely flown off of the shelves. What’s more amazing is that NONE of them ever broke. I inquired about the upstairs lounge, which she said was open, as there had been a bachelorette party up there earlier. She definitely recommended checking it out, which I did post haste. The rooms were predominantly red, there was a cool (as in temperature-wise) feel to them, they were playing Enigma, of all things, and it was deserted. I sat down with my drink in an attempt to make myself comfortable, but… I couldn’t. It creeped me out a bit, though I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why. I decided to finish my drink back downstairs in the bar. As the bartender and I discussed haunted New Orleans further, she said that the strangest place she’d ever stayed was at The Columns Hotel out in the Garden District, the hotel where “Pretty Baby” had been filmed. She said the rooms were huge, but odd in some way and that she’d definitely felt a presence, even though another person had been with her. She couldn’t imagine how strange it would be to stay in one of those rooms by oneself.
Rather than continuing to drink, I decided it would be best to go back to the apartment, chill out and wait until about 12:45 a.m. to pop into The Grill, apologize to the guys and see if they were almost ready to go out for drinks. When I showed up there, they DID ask “What happened to you last night?” I told them I’d fallen asleep again, which is what happens when you drink all day! John told me that he’d even waited for me until 2:00 a.m., for which I profusely apologized. Today, however, I’d paced myself and would be ready to join them for a few rounds at 1:00 a.m. It was not to be, though, as they had to work until 3:00 a.m. In that case, I just parked myself at the counter, informing them that I’d be drinking there and keeping them company until 3:00 a.m. With both Jack and John attending to me, I downed about 4 Abitas and took a picture with both of them before leaving. When I mentioned being back in the morning for breakfast, they said that Pretty Ricky from the morning crew would most likely be helping me. They also told me that Brandon would flirt with me, but to pay him no mind!
That was my last night in New Orleans – nothing crazy, but a very enjoyable time for me. I was still bummed about the voodoo dolls, though.
Lunch at K-Paul’s Restaurant
Beads at The French Market
Crab cakes from Pierre Maspero’s
Somewhere in the Quarter
Part of the “lounge” at Muriel’s Restaurant