There is a little Street in New Orleans called Bourbon

I think I have actually stumbled upon the unofficial main street of a secret beer drinking society. The Octoberfest got nothing! Some people consider South Africans or the Irish to be the biggest beer drinking nations of the world. They would be wrong. The consumption of alcoholic beverages in the French Quarter is phenomenal. It redefines the concept of ‘a shitload of beer’.

If you want to see idiot frat boys getting drunk and then try to impress woman, failing miserably, go there. If you want to see a geriatric white male trying to rule the dancefloor and failing miserably, go there. If you want to see homeless people engage in some sort of praying- mantis-courting-ritual-fist-fight-thingy and failing miserably, go there. If you want to see sober people trying to dodge intoxicated ones and failing miserably, go there. Alcohol is not condusive to normal behaviour.

The fact that happy hour in any one of the gazillioon bars implies a buy-one-get-two-free promotion is probably the main reason for the excessive consumption. I only discovered this anomaly when I ordered my Heineken and got three open bottles from the lady with a shirt seven sizes too small. Don’t worry I’m a responsible adult. I finished all three. I know a good deal when it is shoved in my face.

I also know my limit is three beers.

Some of the younger men didn’t know this about themselves. Young idiots who turn into even bigger asshole versions of themselves. Appalling people who wouldn’t make it on my Christmas card list, if I had one, which I don’t.  I’m too lazy. The most annoying aspect would be their seemingly twisted misconception that woman find drunk men appealing.

We know they don’t but it didn’t prevent some guy to show me his six-pack. Come to think of it, it might have been intended for the girl behind me…even though she also couldn’t care less.  Even if it was kinda impressive, keep that shirt tucked in please. Why would you think I need to see it? It’s not spring break dude.

So why go there?

For the sheer amount of live music on display.  I was blown away. From jazz to blues to rock and pop. Anything goes and it’s frigging awesome. If you get tired of jazz, street artists would cover the boring walk to the next venue, which is less than 10 feet away.  The whole place has a tangible energy that is difficult to explain. One thing that is not two, is that an evening in the French quarter is highly entertaining. The food is also pretty good. Bourbon Street is like my life, there is never a dull moment.

Would I return? Hell yeah! (I didn’t get the name of that frat guy with the six-pack.)

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12 thoughts on “There is a little Street in New Orleans called Bourbon

  1. Pingback: Saturday Share | All In A Dad's Work

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