A Freshman Tale

“…bring shoes you plan on never wearing again.” Good advice goes best with good listeners. Too bad I’m not much of a listener.

As a freshman, I constantly looked for unforgettable experiences. Walking down Bourbon Street seemed like a good idea at the time. Pappy offered to take us. How could I refuse?

Our story begins at a gas station. Lamp had acquired a fake ID (Jim Haan’s I believe) and bought booze for those that wanted it. Each of us had a six pack and a 40 minute car ride to New Orleans. Naturally, a drinking race ensued. After 10 minutes, I got bored after finishing my six, so I taunted Lamp all the way to New Orleans.

We parked and began our pilgrimage towards the heathen capital. Katrina had recently ravaged the area and the destruction was still prevalent. Before coming upon any revelers, we found a pile of beads on the street. Free beads means free boobs. Our pack ravaged the beads, each taking as many as his neck could hold.

People filled Bourbon Street. Pushing seemed the best technique for getting through the throng. You just had to be careful. Pushing the wrong guy could result in an excursion to the hard pavement. As if walking in shit wasn’t bad enough. Luckily, a bunch of skinny ultimate kids fits through a crowd quite easily. Plus, nobody is gonna mess with a drunk Lamp.

Highlights of the night included: seeing Lamp do pushups in the filth, listening to born again Christians trying to convert people on the spot, listening to drunk people pour their hearts out to the born again Christians, seeing the police breakup a couple of fights, me getting more beads than anybody else.

Each year something happens on the ride back. Two years ago we got lost. Last year, a car burst into flames on the highway leaving a charred mess and a traffic jam. So if you go this year, beware, and bring shoes you plan on never wearing again.