It’s really sinking in how much being home kinda sucks. O.k., negative out of the way. When we were down there it came up that my identity as an grumpy, angry bastard may be lost should I ever move down there and who knows what that would do to my reality.
I do not exaggerate when I say that the food at The Alpine (Update 29 Jul, 2014: Sadly the Alpine is no more) was by far, the absolute best food I've ever eaten. The fucking Louisiana Crab Cake appetizers alone were better than any steak I have ever had. I ordered a Garlic Filet Mignon while the Evil Queen got her predestined Tilapia “Thibodeaux”. The Filet was as magnificent as the crab cakes but the tilapia….good gods, the best. I could take another whole vacation and never leave that restaurant. I really would suggest that if you were to visit New Orleans and wanted to partake of as many eateries as possible, go there last. That way you won’t spoil yourself in all of the other fine places.
That evening we went on our Haunted History Tour. The Evil Queen sorted through the many brochures to find us a class tour and she chose wisely. Our guide was a passionate and knowledgeable native and refrained from too much overt cheesiness, aside from urging people to take lots of pictures so we could capture orbs all over the place.
He covered many stories from lovers to nuns but none really gave the chills like the story of the once well respected Madame LaLaurie and her husband, Dr. Leonard Louis Nicolas LaLaurie.
In the early 1800′s they tortured their slaves and allegedly subjected them to bizarre medical experiments in a sequestered area of their home on Royal Street in the French Quarter. It’s believed that one slave set a fire to their mansion to call attention to the slaves mistreatment. People came to help with the fire and found that the slaves were emaciated, wounded, bound and collared. The enraged crowd tore the place to pieces while the LaLauries fled. Many of the rescued slaves died and further excavation found numerous bodies, including a child.
And, of course, Nicolas Cage bought the place. Then lost it when he went bankrupt. The guide speculated that Johnny Depp may be the new owner. Yay.
After that, we headed out, yet again. I think we started at Pat O’Briens’ piano bar which is where things started to get silly. Hurricanes and Cyclones were downed to some pretty interesting piano covers of old and new songs. Billy Joel to Lynyrd Skynyrd to Lady Gaga. I was kind of pissed that they completely blew off my request for Highway To Hell after covering Gansta’s Paradise. I should have taken my tip back.
From there, with our blood alcohol level fueled, we headed of to some more adventurous places. There was a place called The Dungeon and they were playing Pantera. It was a pretty awesome place, the DJ had a playlist that covered everything from Cannibal Corpse to KMFDM. We requested a few songs, the girls were creeped on by a local and I bought them all vodka soaked cherries, which I guess were pretty nasty. The place was full of cages and skulls but they didn’t let people take pics there so we moved on to a gay bar.
I don’t remember the name of the bar, but The Evil Queen, Muppet and I did stay there until they kicked us off the balcony at closing time. Now that I remember, I think the bouncer kept coming out and taking bottles away from us and giving us plastic cups. I guess cups do less damage when thrown from a balcony. Man’s Ruin wanted to go back to the pool so we made Hangman go with her so she didn't drown. We met up with a lovely southern girl whose name I can’t remember but we called her IsaLisa as she had some combined aspects of 2 of my favorite people. She called The Muppet “Curls”, the Evil Queen “Tessa” (which had something to do with her tattoos) and me “Goatee” for my beard and apparent the love of The Devil. Hoping it wasn't a goatse thing :O.
To be continued. Until then, I leave you with a moment of Muppet…