Otis,
Ya asked me how it was going test driving animation software. I figured out this much today. This sh#t is easier than it looks. I want to see and play with some more software before deciding on which one to use.
Written by cartoonist Eric T Styles about moving into the French Quarter of New Orleans. The day to day experience of living in one of the most popular tourist destinations in the world. The Quarter Rat is the name of the publication that Styles illustrates for featuring off the wall stories as told by locals who work as bartenders, bouncers, dancers and in the service industry on Bourbon Street.
Showing posts with label exotic dancers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exotic dancers. Show all posts
Thursday, July 26, 2012
I got to get me some sleep, after I finish my last energy drink. Let me know what ya think.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Pipes
My friend Jeff does some work for my landlady. We have a couple of dancers who live upstairs. Jeff asked if I would come up to the fourth floor and help find the dancers drip, he needed me to hold the flashlight. "Hell yea man, let me grab my coffee...." Oh. Plumbing. Of course I had to be a smart ass as soon I walked in. "I found your plumbing problem right here, you have a big brass pipe in the middle of the living room."
It is of course an old building. I think I saw a plaque on the neighbor's building that it was built in 1794 or something. It's amazing what you'll read when you're taking a piss on a wall. Very high maintenance structures here in the Quarter, lots of unpleasant surprises for property owners. Say what you want about dancers, they do get the best service. I knew a dancer once, I swear Domino's delivered in 12 minutes. I was always afraid to eat the pie, she was a creep magnet.
(BTW, the answer was twice on the pipes.)
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Easter Special
I have had people tell me "Oh you shouldn't publish your scripts on the internet, someone might steal them..." Well, once it appears on the web it's considered "Published Material" and therefore becomes copy written automatically. Besides if some one steals this one script idea, fine. I have hundreds more in my head and they obviously have none.
Thinking about animated series, I noticed they all do Holiday episodes. Charlie Brown has Christmas, Simpsons have Halloween, what's left? There hasn't been a good Easter cartoon since Davy and Goliath went off the air. This script is kind of like that.
"J.H.C."
Quarter Rat Easter Script
Starts with a sunrise service of a guy dressed as "The DUDE Lebowski" delivering the sermon on the mound speech on the river levee in the Quarter. Large group watching, including Lance, Jody and Binge. Everyone has cups and joints.
After the service the part take in the "Homeless Easter Egg Hunt" Everyone leaves money in brightly colored eggs around the Quarter for the homeless to find. Of course Binge drops his in disgusting places to be mean. Later it turns out he needs money quick or he's going to get his ass kicked. In desperation he is forced to dig through donkey crap, reach into urnials, and empty a soiled condom in order to cover his debt. The Dude keeps popping up with words about karma.
Leaving the hunt, Lance and Jody start to discuss brunch plans as the walk down the sidewalk. Ahead of them is a diner. Suddenly the windows explode from gun fire.
After the service the part take in the "Homeless Easter Egg Hunt" Everyone leaves money in brightly colored eggs around the Quarter for the homeless to find. Of course Binge drops his in disgusting places to be mean. Later it turns out he needs money quick or he's going to get his ass kicked. In desperation he is forced to dig through donkey crap, reach into urnials, and empty a soiled condom in order to cover his debt. The Dude keeps popping up with words about karma.
Leaving the hunt, Lance and Jody start to discuss brunch plans as the walk down the sidewalk. Ahead of them is a diner. Suddenly the windows explode from gun fire.
Lance
I love the omelets at this place. Last time...
I love the omelets at this place. Last time...
SFX
Pop pop pop
Glass shattering,
voices yelling angrily.
Lance pushes Jody between two parked SUVs,
shields her as he does.
Cut to the two between vehicles.
SFX
More shots,
yells.
Lance
Ok, the diner is out. Where do you want to go?
Ok, the diner is out. Where do you want to go?
SFX
Automatic gunfire burst
Jody
Frenchman sounds good right about now...
Lance
Frenchman? That's too far. How about some wings at "Daddy's Little Girl?"
Jody
You have got to be kidding?It is Easter Morning,
Frenchman sounds good right about now...
Lance
Frenchman? That's too far. How about some wings at "Daddy's Little Girl?"
Jody
You have got to be kidding?It is Easter Morning,
I am not going to a strip club for chicken wings. Try again big spender.
SFX Police sirens, horses galloping,
helicopters circling, bullhorns of cops
yelling DROP THE WEAPON
plays in the background of this
mundane conversation of a couple.
Lance
You know you love their hot wings and Bloody Maries.
Think about it, it will be the only place in the Quarter this morning not swamped by loud families
with out of control kids that you despise and always end up ruining your dining experience.
Jody
And you want to look at boobies on Easter.
Lance
They have them painted as Easter eggs.
You know you love their hot wings and Bloody Maries.
Think about it, it will be the only place in the Quarter this morning not swamped by loud families
with out of control kids that you despise and always end up ruining your dining experience.
Jody
And you want to look at boobies on Easter.
Lance
They have them painted as Easter eggs.
The two return to the sidewalk as gurneys are pushed past by EMS.
Cut to the interior of "Daddy's Lil Girl" club.
Both Lance and Jody have a huge plate of
wings and six Bloody Marys in front of them.
Lance
And three for one drinks.
Jody
(eating) These wings should have been at the last supper....
And three for one drinks.
Jody
(eating) These wings should have been at the last supper....
Dancers walk around with boobs painted like
brightly colored Easter eggs and bunny ears.
Jody rolls her eyes in disdain. Lance smirks.
A skinny, goofy dancer with bunny ears
and HUGE bucked teeth hops up to Jody.
Goofy dancer
Having fun? Enjoying your Easter?
Having fun? Enjoying your Easter?
Jody looks up, bursts out with stoned laughing.
Points to goofy dancer.
Jody
I LOVE the fake teeth. Totally works, Lance give her a dollar just for the extra effort in her bunny costume....
A shocked, hurt and tearful dancer looks
at Jody as her trembling hand removes the ears.
Tears roll down her cheeks.
Goofy Dancer
Just the ears and the boobs are fake. These are my real teeth... (Bursts into crying)
Just the ears and the boobs are fake. These are my real teeth... (Bursts into crying)
Dancer scurries off.
Jody sits there dumbfounded in embarrassment.
Lance
Damn girl, why ya such a hater?
Jody
OH MY GAWD! I did not mean that! I thought she was wearing those fake goofy teeth from the Mardi Gras Depot.
I never would have believed that a human could grow such appendages. Never in a million years would I ever...
Lance
You just hate her because she's skinny with fake boobs. Admit it.
Damn girl, why ya such a hater?
Jody
OH MY GAWD! I did not mean that! I thought she was wearing those fake goofy teeth from the Mardi Gras Depot.
I never would have believed that a human could grow such appendages. Never in a million years would I ever...
Lance
You just hate her because she's skinny with fake boobs. Admit it.
You saw her flaw and you zeroed in on it to rip her apart.
Jody
I did not! I was complimenting her efforts in a costume...
Lance
Let me bring Zoey over here so you can make fun of her big nose.
Or lets wait for Daisey to take the stage with her club foot....
Ya know, these dancers are people too, they have feelings.
They are not just pieces of meat for you to inspect and criticize...
Lance
Let me bring Zoey over here so you can make fun of her big nose.
Or lets wait for Daisey to take the stage with her club foot....
Ya know, these dancers are people too, they have feelings.
They are not just pieces of meat for you to inspect and criticize...
Jody
Stop it! I feel so bad right now. I made a dancer cry on Easter, I am going to hell.
Lance
Jesus died for dancers too. I read on line they had BRONZE poles back then.
Stop it! I feel so bad right now. I made a dancer cry on Easter, I am going to hell.
Lance
Jesus died for dancers too. I read on line they had BRONZE poles back then.
Goofy Dancer is sobbing in the background.
Second Dancer Zoey scurries over to Goofy
and comforts her.
Jody
I feel so bad right now...
Zoey
What happened?
Goofy Dancer
The fat bitch made fun of my teeth!
I feel so bad right now...
Zoey
What happened?
Goofy Dancer
The fat bitch made fun of my teeth!
Both dancers scowl at Jody.
Jody
Never mind, I don't feel so bad right now.
Never mind, I don't feel so bad right now.
Twinkles the dancer comes up to Lance.
She is wearing a white toga and a tinsel
"Crown of thorns."
Twinkles
Hey Lancey Pants! Going to stick around for our Easter Show? I play Hey Zeus!
Jody
Oh gawd! Could today get anymore blasphemous?
Twinkles
We have a cross thingy on stage and Athena will be playing a Roman Soldier....
Jody
Answers that question.
Hey Lancey Pants! Going to stick around for our Easter Show? I play Hey Zeus!
Jody
Oh gawd! Could today get anymore blasphemous?
Twinkles
We have a cross thingy on stage and Athena will be playing a Roman Soldier....
Jody
Answers that question.
Athena walks up dressed as a sexy Roman soldier / Dominatrix.
Athena
Oh Hi Lance and what her name. Have you seen the Binge?
Tell him that I miss my play toy and I want to model some new outfits for him.
Lance
What's the real reason?
Athena
(Abruptly angry, not seductive)
That sorry piece of dried DNA borrowed two hundred from me and hasn't paid me back yet.
Can you believe that I got taken by that wad of stupidity?
I mean if I let it slide and word got out, I'd have everyman in the Quarter owing me money.
That would be hundreds of men thinking that they can take advantage of innocent women. Tell Binge I'm looking for him.
Jody
We know. He's a jerk.
Lance
So, now you're attacking my friends now?
Athena
How dare you talk crap about one of the men who love me?
Oh Hi Lance and what her name. Have you seen the Binge?
Tell him that I miss my play toy and I want to model some new outfits for him.
Lance
What's the real reason?
Athena
(Abruptly angry, not seductive)
That sorry piece of dried DNA borrowed two hundred from me and hasn't paid me back yet.
Can you believe that I got taken by that wad of stupidity?
I mean if I let it slide and word got out, I'd have everyman in the Quarter owing me money.
That would be hundreds of men thinking that they can take advantage of innocent women. Tell Binge I'm looking for him.
Jody
We know. He's a jerk.
Lance
So, now you're attacking my friends now?
Athena
How dare you talk crap about one of the men who love me?
Lance
Tell me about it. She's been like this all morning. She even made fun of Zoey's nose.
Jody
I did not make fun of that dancer's huge nose...
Tell me about it. She's been like this all morning. She even made fun of Zoey's nose.
Jody
I did not make fun of that dancer's huge nose...
Jody turns to see Zoey standing behind her.
Jody cringes.
Zoey
Gawd Lance! What do you see in this bitch?
Lance
Starting ask myself that today too....
Gawd Lance! What do you see in this bitch?
Lance
Starting ask myself that today too....
Twinkles
Promise you'll stay for the show? I'll wave to ya from the wooden thingy.
Lance
Of course I promise.
Promise you'll stay for the show? I'll wave to ya from the wooden thingy.
Lance
Of course I promise.
They pinky promise.
Twinkles and Athena start to exit
Athena
I think I left my flog in the VIP room last night...
I think I left my flog in the VIP room last night...
Jody starts to stand
Jody
Can we go now?
Lance
(turning to the crowd)
Hey everybody, she got drunk, embarrassed herself, now she wants me to break a pinky promise with Twinkles....
Can we go now?
Lance
(turning to the crowd)
Hey everybody, she got drunk, embarrassed herself, now she wants me to break a pinky promise with Twinkles....
Group
Booooo!
Booooo!
Jody sits in humiliation.
Binge flops down besides her.
Binge flops down besides her.
Binge
Hey guys! Sure I'll join you.
(to bartender) Yea Bonnie, three of my usual, on his tab. What's new?
Lance
Well, I'm just trying to celebrate the most important and holiest Christian holiday, but Jody has ruined it by insulting all of the dancers.
Hey guys! Sure I'll join you.
(to bartender) Yea Bonnie, three of my usual, on his tab. What's new?
Lance
Well, I'm just trying to celebrate the most important and holiest Christian holiday, but Jody has ruined it by insulting all of the dancers.
You always ask why she has no hot single friends to hook you up with. She has none, this is why other women hate her so much.
Binge
Did she make fun of Daisy's foot? (disgust) Of all days too.
Binge
Did she make fun of Daisy's foot? (disgust) Of all days too.
This day is not about hate, we honor the death and erection of our Lord and Taylor.
But haters must hate. I told you dude, you never see this side of them until after you marry them.
You take her out for a traditional Easter morning breakfast and she starts calling Daisy "Hoof-Foot"
Daisy
(Walking up) WHO called me "Hoof - foot?"
But haters must hate. I told you dude, you never see this side of them until after you marry them.
You take her out for a traditional Easter morning breakfast and she starts calling Daisy "Hoof-Foot"
Daisy
(Walking up) WHO called me "Hoof - foot?"
Binge
She did.
Daisey
Better hope I don't follow you into the ladies room.
You'll get a hoof up the ass...
Jody
But I DIDN'T!
She did.
Daisey
Better hope I don't follow you into the ladies room.
You'll get a hoof up the ass...
Jody
But I DIDN'T!
Daisey
You know, I dance in front of hundreds of men a day. They never mention it.
Men like Binge are sensitive towards women feelings.
I don't know such a sweet man could be friends with such a witch.
Binge
I'm starting to ask myself that too lately sweetheart.
You know, I dance in front of hundreds of men a day. They never mention it.
Men like Binge are sensitive towards women feelings.
I don't know such a sweet man could be friends with such a witch.
Binge
I'm starting to ask myself that too lately sweetheart.
Bonnie the bartender over hears
conversation as she's bringing Binge his drinks.
conversation as she's bringing Binge his drinks.
Bonnie
Gingers have no souls...
Gingers have no souls...
Jody is furious by this point how everyone is attacking
her for something she didn't mean. She snaps at Bonnie.
her for something she didn't mean. She snaps at Bonnie.
Jody
At least my hair and boobs are real!
At least my hair and boobs are real!
Dead silence falls over the club.
Music stops, lights stop blinking.
Dancer stops mid slide, everyone
stares shocked at Jody.
Music stops, lights stop blinking.
Dancer stops mid slide, everyone
stares shocked at Jody.
Bonnie
(enraged and in tears)
OH RUB IT IN!
(enraged and in tears)
OH RUB IT IN!
Bonnie rips off her wig to show a shaved head.
Bonnie
I had hair as beautiful as yours until I lost it FROM CHEMO!
I had hair as beautiful as yours until I lost it FROM CHEMO!
Jody's jaw drops.
Bonnie
(shot from back)
You want to know for what?
(shot from back)
You want to know for what?
Rips open her blouse and two falsies pop out,
Binge catches one holds it up like a prize.
Binge catches one holds it up like a prize.
Bonnie
BREAST CANCER!
BREAST CANCER!
Binge and Lance slide down each direction away from Jody.
Pretend they don't know her.
Lance takes off his wedding ring and slips it into his pocket.
Jody starts to convulse, beet red, eyes tearing up, trembling.
Bonnie's falsey slides down the bar from Binge,
stops in front of Jody. She looks down,
Binge drew a sad face crying on it.
Pretend they don't know her.
Lance takes off his wedding ring and slips it into his pocket.
Jody starts to convulse, beet red, eyes tearing up, trembling.
Bonnie's falsey slides down the bar from Binge,
stops in front of Jody. She looks down,
Binge drew a sad face crying on it.
Lance
Oh, that reminds me, man... you better get out of here. A woman you love wants to kill you.
Binge
Can you be a little more specific?
Oh, that reminds me, man... you better get out of here. A woman you love wants to kill you.
Binge
Can you be a little more specific?
Suddenly a Roman spear flies past all three and sticks in the wall.
Binge
Athena?
Thursday, March 29, 2012
It's been a while
Early morning walks up Bourbon Street to meet Cornell on Canal Street in front of the recently renovated JOY Theater to pick me up. I make it a point to say "Good Morning" to the statue of Ignatius J. Reilly. Bourbon Street at 7:00 am is busy with Quarter Rats cleaning up from the previous night's battle and rearming itself for the next night. Dozens of beer and liquor trucks with two men each delivering fresh ammo. Produce and food service trucks making deliveries as the morning crews hose off the icy slick brick sidewalks. The well worn bricks offer as much traction as packed snow when they get wet. If that doesn't present enough of a challenge to pedestrians, every step is aimed to avoid stepping in a crater of missing water meter covers or paving bricks. There are at least five potential personal injury lawsuits per block. Either the city doesn't care or never pays claims.
Early one morning about 4:30 am I was up and out of smokes. Like most people awake at that hour my main concern was feeding my addiction. At four in the morning however there would be people outside willing to kill to support their given habit. I strolled down Bourbon to find a place open with nicotine as barbacks dragged dozens of bottle clattering garbage cans out to the curb. Large rodents scurried about grabbing up dropped pizza crusts and chicken bones. I watched my back for any thug that might dart out from the shadows of a doorway to clock me in the head with a beer bottle with one hand as his other hand went for my wallet. I also had to watch my step as I navigated around numerous puddles of vomit. I looked down at a bright pink rice filled pile of vomit and commented to myself "Someone had Gumbo and Hurricanes last night."
Across Bourbon Street a van was parked with it's doors open and a thick hose led into a darkened strip club as the inside of the van whined with noise. Upholstery cleaner. He might be there for the rugs, but the odds are that right now at 4:30 am some poor guy was cleaning dried semen stains off of a red velor couch in the VIP room. Mike Rowe from the television show "Dirty Jobs" wouldn't last a day here.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Louie Louie
Friday night the Quarter Rat delivered the lattest issue (#26) to all of the finer drinking establishments in the French Quarter. Like the previous times the copies were dropped off by topless girls with their breasts painted in festive Mardi Gras themes. We started out with ten lovelies, I think only three managed to finish the route. One didn't even make it out of the first bar. Rather than writing about the night in my blog like I usually do, we videotaped the entire adventure. I know we should be able to edit it down to at least 30 minutes of non stop debauchery, nudity, stupidity and fun.
As Otis and I were unloading cases of the magazines from his car, I looked up across the street and famed street mime "Uncle Louie" was walking by with his bucket from working all day on Royal Street. It just turned out that Uncle Louie made the cover of this month's Quarter Rat. I grabbed a handful of copies for him and went over to hand them to him. I'll admit that I couldn't wait to see his reaction. Anyone who has visited the French Quarter has seen Louie in his pristine white suit posing on Royal, anyone who lives in the Quarter has shaken his hand and probably had a drink or two with him. A real cool man who is a staple to the French Quarter.
We had to videotape the evening because I really don't think anyone outside of the Quarter believes the stuff I write about. We couldn't get our buddy Zan and his pedicar to help deliver the boxes this time around. Zan said that he had a wheel fall off or something. (Personally, we think his wife got tired of him peddling up and down Bourbon Street with topless young women. We're not sayin, just sayin.) So I dressed up like a homeless guy and pushed a shopping cart around the Quarter loaded with cases of magazines. At one point on Lower Decatur Street I passed an actual homeless guy with a shopping cart loaded with personal belongings. Awkward at first, I had to comment to him about his cart "Nice model, what year is it?"
Towards the end of the night we had to meet up with the remaining girls and the rest of our krewe at the Ginger Lime Japanese restaurant at 200 Decatur. They treated us great with fantastic food. I vaguely remember eating sushi off of a couple of the women. We had a few block to travel to get there so we broke up into small groups and hopped into Pedicabs for the journey. I however was stuck with a shopping cart loaded with magazines and almost had to walk. Otis yelled "Styles! Sit on your cart and hang on to the back of the Pedicab and he'll tow you." So, dressed like a homeless guy I was towed behind one of the bikes down several blocks of Royal Street. All night I had been rolling ontop of the shopping cart. It was like "Jackass on Bourbon Street" I did take a spill when the front wheels of the cart dug into a pothole. You'll have to wait for the video.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Drunk Stripper Storage
My front door is about one hundred feet from the infamous Bourbon Street. A short stagger, or on some nights crawl home for when I am so inclined. It has it's advantages and a few disadvantages. Often on the weekends there is a constant dull roar of the crowds, brass bands, police sirens and loud cheers during football games being watched on a thousand or so televisions with in earshot. It's like living next door to a football stadium. I don't mind it.
One night while working on my computer, I heard a couple of pops and several hundred people scream followed by the thunder of the same several hundred stampeading. Followed by sirens. People wonder why I don't have a television in my apartment, why would I even need one. I live the life of a background actor in the middle of the most entertaining city in the world. Just when you wake up in the morning you pray today will be a comedy, not a tragedy. You never really know until you go to bed each night.
Sometimes you can tell when you first wake up in the morning. My first impression of my new landlady was she is not one to fuck around with. She seemed strict and I did not want to piss her off. Shortly after I moved in, I received a phone call from a good friend who bar tended the graveyard shift at a Bourbon Street strip club. My buddy the bartender figured he was doing me a favor by offering my couch to crash on to a very intoxicated and somewhat wasted dancer. I never in my life thought that I would ever turn down such a delivery. I had to Tarantino on his ass.
"Mmmm! Goddamn, Styles! This is some serious gourmet shit! Me and Twinkles would be happy with some freeze-dried Taster's Choice right, but he springs this serious GOURMET shit on us! Is this Cafe DuMonde?"
"Knock it off Otis, I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my coffee is, okay? I'm the one who walks down to the French Market and buys it. But you know what's on my mind right now? It AIN'T the Chicory in my coffee, it's the drunk stripper in my stairwell. When you came walking up here on Toulouse, did you notice a sign out in front of my apartment that said "Drunk Stripper Storage"? Did you notice a sign out in front of my apartment that said "Drunk Stripper Storage"? You know WHY you didn't see that sign on Toulouse? 'Cause it ain't there, 'cause storing drunk strippers ain't my fucking business, that's why!
Now don't you understand that if my landlady comes in and finds a drunk stripper in her stairwell, I'm gonna get evicted. No letter of complaint, no increased security deposit – fuckin' EVICTED. And I don't wanna get fuckin' evicted. Now I wanna help ya out Otis, I really do. But I ain't gonna lose my apartment doin' it. There's nothin' you can say that's gonna make me want to be homeless, IS THERE? My landlady will be coming by in about an hour and a half. You have to call some cab companies? I suggest you start."
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Christmas In The Quarter
Issue #25 was released yesterday, not so much released as it escaped. Again we at the Quarter Rat tried to keep in mind what our readers really want. Breasts. Since our Halloween distribution was much appreciated by all of our fans on Bourbon Street in October, we repeated the festivities with a Christmas theme. Young healthy breasts adorned with paintings of holly and Christmas lights, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, candy canes and a Menorah. All painted by the talented artist Lady Erotos.
Our buddy Xhan again unselfishly volunteered his time and pedi-car to assist the magazine in distribution. The girls were great, well organized and filled with the holiday spirit, our four angels filed into just about every door on Bourbon Street and lower Decatur with the precision of a SWAT team. Every bar, swanky hotel and five star eatery was brought to a dumbfounded standstill as four topless girls wearing Santa hats entered and dropped dozens of copies on every flat surface. Now and then some much appreciative patrons would buy them shots.
My favorite moment was when a Fire truck came to a complete stop on Bourbon as a half a dozen grinning NOFD heroes reached out for their copies. Later on when we discovered Frenchman Street was dead and we decided it wasn't worth the additional time to traverse it, so the girls made a point to go into the fire house on Esplanade and say hello to the much appreciative firemen. I am sure today they are still talking about the visit from the elves. The Quarter Rat salutes you guys.
There were only a few who didn't seem too impressed. One of the cheezy gift shops on Bourbon Street had the store owner in the doorway watching our yuletide procession stroll by. The store owner appeared to be of a middle eastern origin. He stood scowling and looking like he had a humbug up his ass. I mean this dude looked pissed. Well if this kind of thing offends your religious sensibilities then perhaps A) You shouldn't have a store front on BOURBON STREET, B) If naked women offend you, then STOP STARING AT THEIR TITS. I half expected him to start yelling "INFIDELS!!!" and hurl rocks. I thought perhaps he just isn't familiar with our religious customs. It might be my duty to extend an understanding hand of friendship. Peace on Earth, goodwill toward men as it were. I handed him a copy of our magazine just as a blond with a Menorah painted on her breasts walked by and waved to him. I explained "We are celebrating the birth of our Messiah, Merry Christmas." As I walked away, he hurled a paving stone at me.
The other "negative review" of the night was when I spotted three Asian kids walking by and I went to hand them a copy. I figure "They're Asian, they love cartoons." The one kid got real snotty and snapped "What do I want that fuckin thing for?" and they walked away. I guess he thought I was one of the numerous evangelical Christians that frequent Bourbon Street handing out "Why you need Jesus" tracts. I laughed and yelled "ANIME SUCKS!" Three blocks later the same group was milling about and spotted our hotties handing out something. The grinning boys approached one of our ladies. As she started to hand him a copy, I pulled her arm back and snarled at the boy "He doesn't get one..." Profanities were yelled at my back as I and the elf strolled down Bourbon. I half turned and yelled "Go home and watch Speed Racer!" I should work for the U.N.
My personal highlight was when I ran into a former roomate that I hadn't seen in months. Neither one of us could remember the other's name so we called each other "DUDE." We chatted about what we were doing in life. As I started to tell him about my exciting life as a house painter, he became distracted. He was looking over my my shoulder with bulging eyes and a stupid grin as he interrupted me "Dude, look at what's coming..." I glanced behind me to see our posse of beauties skipping towards us waving copies of the Rat. I causally responded "Hmm? Oh yea, they're with me." He sneered "Uh yeaaaaa, Riiiiiight. You wiiiiiish!" As they got closer, one came up and hooked her arm into mine and held up an unlit cigarette "Styles, baby, do you have a light?" "Of course I do, anything for you dollface." I accommodated her and clicked my Zippo close turning to my buddy "Excuse me, I have to go back to work now. Have a good holiday dude...." "Uhm, yea, uh, you too Styles."
The artwork was created by local artist Lady Erotos. She has a little business venture going of selling and painting ad space on breasts. Remember, this is the French Quarter. Her husband Domino helps her in her upstart company. What a gracious hubby. Domino joins us on these excursions just to provide an extra bit of security. Xhan, Otis, Domino and myself keep an eye on the girls at all times. Stupid shit can happen on Bourbon Street faster than a stripper can grab a buck. I turned to see Domino chuckling to himself. "What did we miss?" I asked. He told about across the street there was a man guiding a blind kid down the sidewalk through the crowd. Evidently the man who was doing the guiding got distracted by our delivery girls. The guide, not paying attention walked the blind person straight into an iron balcony post. Straight on, middle of the forehead shot. The blind guy hit the cast iron so hard, folks on the balcony looked down to see what caused the shaking. How do you explain to a blind guy with a concussion "I was staring at boobies with candy canes painted on them...."
We finished our delivery route back on Bourbon Street with out any arrests, dramas or major incidents. Rudolph was hanging onto my arm, apparently one too many free shots and she looked cold. I could tell because Rudolph by this point had pierced ears. For those of you who don't live in New Orleans, this has been a very violent and deadly year. A lot of murders and shootings, a number of high profile shootings on Bourbon Street in the past few months. Several dead, many injured by stray bullets. All Quarter Rats are jumpy and nervous from the constant tension of possible gunfire at any given moment. Suddenly from behind us I hear one of our girls yell "YOU MUTHAFUCKA....."
I spun around to see what was going down in time to see a black kid about sixteen or seventeen years old running at full speed. About the time he was a few feet away from me, a handful of a dozen or so magazines flew into the back of his head exploding into the crowd. As he ran at full speed, one of our slightly inebriated girls was hot on his heels waving a fist and threatening deadly violence against him and his testicles. Before I could grasp what was transpiring, Domino flew past chasing after the girl. As I was trying to decide if I might be needed or not in this unfolding drama four other kids who were evidently friends of the first one ran past following after Domino, who was chasing the girl who was chasing the first kid.
I could see this turning very ugly very fast. By this point of the evening I had feelings towards these girls like they were my daughters, so I joined in the chase. It defied common sense, but then again this is the Quarter and most daily activities defy common sense. So here are the eight of us at full sprint charging down Bourbon Street weaving in and out of surprised tourists watching a topless chick with pig tails and a school girl skirt screaming like a banshee after a 16 year old, being followed by a four other teens and two hipsters. Otis comes sprinting up next to me "How many?" "At least five." "What happened?" "Fucked if I know..."
At any moment I half expected to see one or more of the group pull a piece and start emptying a clip in our direction. Otis accelerates away from me catching up to the group of four a block away. I start to realize that I am no longer even in this race when my chest starts to feel like it's being cut open with a chainsaw. I notice a crowd gather around me as I kneel on Bourbon clutching my heart ready to vomit. I hear someone in the crowd mention 911. I pull myself up and jog back to the other girls to make sure they are ok. I try to listen above the noise of bad Zydeco music and my pounding heart for the sound of gun fire. I didn't hear any.
Back at the starting line Rudolph was a little pissed that I had left her, but Lady Erotos and the other two girls were near by. Catching my breath and swallowing back the bile of my near coronary, I see our troops jogging back all accounted for. The panting girl in pig tails stands in the middle of Bourbon Street pointing to the crowd in a spinning motion. "If any of you other Muthafuckas try to grab my tits, I'LL CUT YOUR DICKS OFF!"
I spent my last three bucks on Cherry Bombs at the Dungeon and walked home, and to all, a goodnight.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
My coolest moment
My coolest moment of living in the French Quarter, or of my life for that matter took place on Bourbon Street. I had done a hand drawn ad for several strip clubs on Bourbon who hold an annual lap dance competition during “Gatorfest Weekend.” The club whose team of dancers perform the most lap dances during the week wins a trophy, the girls win prizes and guys wake up for a week with a horn over from the night before.
I drew the flier up of a hot farm girl riding on an alligator based on a dancer from the one club named Moonshine. A beautiful, sweet and intelligent girl that restores my faith in women. She’s just a kid to me, my only fantasies of her involve playing Play Station 3. The ad made me a couple hundred bucks that I had to try and pick up. E-mails and messages back and forth with the manager to try and collect. He wasn’t dodging me, it’s just with The French Quarter being such a twenty four hour hustle, coordinating crossing paths can be difficult.
The manager arranges for me to come by and see the manger on duty one night to pick up cash. The doorman stops me for the five dollar cover charge. I explain who I am and why I am there, tones change. Now I am being treated like a peer, not prey. A quick radio call followed by a “One moment.” A very tall, muscular man in a dark suit and perfect pony tail who looks like some sort of German terrorist from an action movie steps into the lobby to escort this artist into the back. He cuts a path through the surprisingly thick crowd for a weekday as I follow. I make it a point not even to glance at the naked women just feet away as I pass. I am way too cool for that, I am here on business, higher up on the food chain than the drooling buffoons who believe the girl dancing might actually want them.
The manger’s office at a strip club is the least glamourous room in the club. The men’s room has more class. A quick phone call to the manger to confirm the cash drawer pay out and we return to the bar area. I scratched out a receipt as the manger on duty waits for the bartender to open the cash drawer and comps me a beer. I look around the slick club as money is being swept up like beads on Fat Tuesday. A year ago I rolled into this town on two hundred bucks loaned to me to get out of town by my ex wife’s new husband the preacher. Today I am on Larry Flynt's payroll.
I am finishing up my beer by the time the bartender has a chance to open the drawer. I get handed the cash as I drop my bottle in the trash behind the bar. I am walking out of the strip club with more money than I walked in with. As I stuff the bills casually in my pocket, a couple customers give me the “Who in the hell is that guy?” look. This is my coolest moment right now. I feel like I have just completed a Grand Theft Auto mission. Nothing could make this exact time in my life any better. I start to leave.
My name is yelled by a woman’s voice above the music. I turn in time to see Moonshine leaping off of the stage to give me a hug. Ok, the coolest moment of my life just got cooler by a factor of ten. I felt like a hero in a Frank Miller story, this was my Nancy. The hottest dancer in the club gives me a big topples hug. My stare never leaves her child like eyes as we chat. She thanks me for my feedback on her own work as a cartoonist. I didn’t bullshit her when I said she shows real promise as a cartoonist. We say a quick good bye as she hops back up on the stage and I head for the door.
If I had to choose a moment for me to drop dead with a heart attack, that would have been it. What a scene to end with. At the exit I pause and look back at the twenty two year old and wonder to myself if I could legally adopt her someday.
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