Dear New Orleans,
I miss you already.
Remember that time that I came to visit? Remember how we drank Hurricanes at Pat O'Briens and sang along to some rad songs with the piano player? Do you remember the awesome guy playing the tin tray? I LOVED HIM. Almost as much as I love you.
It was a great time, wasn't it New Orleans? Did you have fun too?
There was the swamp tour! ("If a snake gets in the boat, just lift up your feet, we'll get him out." "By we, he really means he right?") And the gators! All those gators! Remember the Swamp Kittens and how Sarah fed them her Doritos? That was fun, wasn't it New Orleans?
And the French Quarter! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVED THE FRENCH QUARTER?! Bourbon and Toulouse and Chartres? Even though Bourbon street smelled like vomit and booze and urine. And even though the number of strip clubs seemed to outnumber everything else. And even when I paid 8.50 for a Blue Moon. Because it only took about a Hurricane and a half before I was good and sloshed. AND I DIDN'T EVEN GET A HANGOVER. Not once, New Orleans. Do you understand how rare that is? HOW WONDERFUL?
And then the cemetery tour! And Priestess Miriam's House O' Voodoo. Remember how our tour guide told us to peek in through windows and doors? REMEMBER HOW CREEPY/AWESOME THAT WAS?! Remember how she dropped us off in front of Armstrong Park where two tourists had been stabbed for their camera? She was crazy, New Orleans, but damn charming.
And the streetcars, New Orleans! And the World War II Museum! AND THE PAT O'BRIEN'S HURRICANES!
I miss you New Orleans. I miss your booze and your Swamp Kittens. I miss that awesome dinner we had at Coop's and the Mango Mangos every four feet on Bourbon. I miss them gators, and Muffalettas at Central Grocery. Mmmm. Muffalettas. I miss the Hotel St. Marie (but not that non-door to our bathroom). I miss the super creepy guy asking us if we want our fortunes read by Jackson Square.
I will visit again, New Orleans, hopefully soon.
Save some gator jerky and frozen daiquiris for me.
Love,
Lisa
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