The sun came out and the wind stuck around yesterday but a lil breeze didn’t keep the fiance and I from hoping on the ferry and cruising over to FQF. I was a little hungover from the night before so, by the time I got over there, I needed the ole pelo de perro pretty bad. I needed it so bad that we had to hit the Fat Tuesday’s at Spanish Plaza right after we got off the boat.
The Turbo Dog helped but my stomach was still a little queezy, it may have been all the seafood I had eaten the day before and that morning. Romy asked me if I needed Pepto and I said I just needed beero.
I like French Quarter Fest but some of my clearest memories of it consist of me walking behind the slowest people on Earth. Also the most stopping-for-nothingest people.
After getting a large Red Stallion at Crescent City Brewhouse, I was beginning to feel okay. I’ve never seen Trombone Shorty so we headed over there and caught all his show. His guitar player won the “best dressed musician” award. He had on all-white suit with a lime shirt and aviator shades. He played pretty damn good too.
Then we just kind of walked around and looked at some of the folk artists in Jackson Square and popped in to the Alpine for a drink and headed back to the Square to see Charmaine Neville whom I had also never seen.
I didn’t catch all of her show but what I saw, I liked. She’s got a lot of energy and wasn’t going to let her show being on the spot where George Bush promised New Orleans a grandiose future go unnoticed, especially considering that the Lower Nine doesn’t look much different than it did the night he made that speech.
She began talking about the war in Iraq and some buffoon behind me started talking back so that everyone around him (but not anyone on stage) could hear him. I just shook my head. Then he left.
After Charmaine finished up, we did our obligatory trip to Molly’s and I was formally introduced to Mr. Wu.
Romy got a craving for fried chicken and I expected Fiorellas to be packed out but we got a seat and got served pretty quick considering.
Then we got back to the Ferry to find it was all closed up. A few cabbies wouldn’t take us back to the West Bank (including one from United) and we had to do the “don’t ask, just get in” method of faring.
It was a good day.
What the fruck is it about the WB? You’d think it was another friggin’ state. It’s only a river, for God’s sake. Weeenies…..
The one we did get to take us over kept saying, “I’ve lived here 8 years and I’ve never been over here.”
I’ve got a call in to the Taxicab Bureau. I believe it is illegal to refuse a reasonable fare based on destination, especially within the metropolitan area.
I’ll post again when I get some answers!
I don’t geddit, myself. It’s quicker to get to Algiers than Metairie and you don’t see cabbies turning down those fares.
Go roro. And go ahead and file a complaint against the female cabby workin’ for United on Sunday night. Couldn’t have been too many ladies on shift.
Varg,
I gotta admit.. I grew up here and until I had reason to visit.. i.e. friends who lived in the Point.. I didn’t have a clue what was over there.. nor how to get around nor whether or not it was Winter during July or anything for that matter. You just didn’t go to the Westbank unless you had good reason to. As it is, I try to limit my visits… on account of my passport issues.
Also.. I can tell you from my experience working in the Quarter. During events.. like Carnival or FQF and such.. many many many cab drivers have refused to bring myself or my friends to Gentilly or even Uptown. They’d rather just shuttle tourists between the Sheraton and Cats’ all night.
Well FUCK them then. The cabbies not you people who are missing out on the beauty of Algiers Point.