So this story starts with where we ended in the first post--coming back to the hotel by 3 a.m.
We were in NOLA--the land where night always ends on Bourbon Street, the jazz music is a playing and beads are thrown at you no matter the time of year.
So the truth be told, when you're on Bourbon Street and you cannot NOT have drinks. That would be just wrong!
We lived it up, we drank, we ate and we drank some more.
As soon as we got back to our hotel room, Klay stripped and fell on the bed passing out within minutes.
I still had to take off my make up. After I "attempted" to remove my makeup (this makes me super annoyed I can't just hop into bed like a dude...), I walked out to see him sprawled on the bed.
#womenalwaysgotosleeplast
Let's just say when I woke him to ask him to move over, he started to feel ick-y.
And he continued that way for a while. I stayed up with him of course, but I was so tired from the road trip, and we had little sleep the night before--plus I had been drinking--so I was beyond ready to hit the sheets, especially before the room started spinning.
Luckily I got him in bed and I in bed in one piece. That morning I woke and felt a tinge of headache emerging so I popped some Excedrin Migraine--that's my shit--and went back to sleep. #whenItravelItakethemedicinecabinet
We didn't wake up til 11. We were pooped. And had a liiiiittle too much fun. Just a little.
I showered and got ready to start the day. I wasn't going to waste the day away in bed.
And, Klay...
wellllllllllll...
He had a slower start to the day... he was still sluggish and still feeling all sickish and whatnot. We definitely can't party like we used to.
Bourbon Street: 1
Klay and Cass: -3
By the time we were ready to head out to meet Cami and Jeremiah at the Festival it was 12:30 or so.
We were starving.
And tired.
And my feet felt like I'd walked barefoot on a bed of rocks for two weeks. #holysmokestheyhurt
I'd wore the first and only pair of gladiator sandals I own (which I had just purchased) and the super-thin sole literally made me stump my toes on the curb about 394839 times throughout the night. Anyone else experience this problem?
When we found Cami and Jeremiah and they were already back on the alcohol train. Klay and I just needed food and needed it fast. So I hopped in line at the festival and ordered my first ever shrimp po' boy! Holy hell, it was craze amaze.
After eating some grub we started to feel much better. We walked around by the water and around the French Quarter admiring the art, the music and the buildings--and dare I say it--even had a few beers. My inner partier is still in there somewhere.
We walked around for a few hours, but my feet and back were begging me to give 'em a break so we stopped in a little restaurant to kick up our feet and relax, but it was fancy schmancy.
Ugh, these two were in their own little world. #bromanceabrewing
All we pretty much did for about 7 hours was walk, talk, watch the little performances on the side of the street, and eat A LOT.
After our fancy meal, we ate again only three hours later. #piggies #fancyfooddoesntfillourtummies
This time I tried some alligator and fried oysters. They were delish!
It was now around 8 p.m. or so and well we had forgotten to do something we were supposed to do the day before. Remember anything?
We finally realized we didn't pay the parking fee in the public parking where my car was.
FML.
We were already three hours overdue, so if something had happened, it had probably already happened. So we decided we'd handle it on the way back to the hotel.
After chowing down for the 32389 time that day, we decided to go gamble at Harrah's. Cami and I left the fellas at the roulette table and went and did our own thing. I played a few slot machines with no luck, but found some luck on the penny machines again.
We ended the night (or Klay did) coming out 95 dollars ahead.
We left Harrah's and headed back to the hotel, calling it a night. We couldn't handle a round two on Bourbon Street, especially since we had to drive 7 hours the next day.
We asked the cab driver to pull in the lot where we parked and found my car...
with
a
damn
boot
on
it.
WTF. Good times. I'll give you a minute to soak up all this awesomeness.
NINETY DOLLARS.
Praise lil eight pound baby Jesus, Klay won some more money at Harrah's!
We
From the shitty bed and breakfast, the bed breaking (when Klay sat on it) to witnessing a wreck 20 feet from us (while we were on foot) and Klay having to throw away his $50 pocket knife to having a boot on our car, this NOLA trip was definitely a challenging one.
The good times though definitely out-weighed the bad.
This is us, the next day, waiting for the boot-removal "police" to come remove the boot. We weren't too happy.
We decided we'd go take a few pics with my "good" camera before we rolled out of NOLA for good.
So we hit up Bourbon Street again and I took a few good pics--like two. OK OK, five. I did manage to find and take a photo at Willie's Chicken (where we ate at 2 a.m. the night before and the next day I talked and talked about how delish the food was and NO ONE remembered). So Klay and I hit it up before we left--and he remembers how amazing it was this time. ;)
This trip was by far one of the funnest and most epic trips we've been on in a while.
A bed was broke,
A car was wrecked,
A knife was trashed,
A car was booted,
Money was lost,
Drinks were drank,
Songs were sung,
Memories were made,
and a bromance was born.
This is what happened errrrrry time we asked them to take a pic of us. Meanwhile, we're standing and posing thinking we are being photographed.
So NOLA, we will be back.
Until next time,
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