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.