BMFRTE Day 11: Hope, and New Orleans

Monday, 8/27: somewhere in rural Oklahoma:

We head out, east through Oklahoma and into southeastern Arkansas. This is the fourth day of our trip from NYC to CA that has us traveling either north, east, or both. But whatever- this is the BMFRTE. This is how we roll.

Upon careful study of the atlas over our usual greasy-spoon diner breakfast, we realize that our trip diagonally across Arkansas to Memphis will take us right through Hope, where the Bill Clinton Presidential Library is. It's a race against time to see if we can make it to Graceland before it closes, especially since we were not good about getting up this morning, and stopping somewhere seriously imperils that goal, but we both figure we're more likely to be in Memphis someday than Hope, so we opt to stop for Hope.


I got nuthin' for this one. I mean, what is there really to say about Arkansas? Like Texas, but without all the charm?




We get to the library at about 2pm, and figure we can spend maybe half an hour before we have to high-tail it out of there. The Clinton library seems very, well, Clinton-like: very grand, very interesting, a little over the top...



The Clinton Library. [Insert own intern joke here]








Although we initially intend to spend only half an hour, we wind up getting sucked in [Insert own intern joke here] and spend over an hour. Interesting bits include an actual presidential limo, a replica of the Oval Office, a short film narrated by President Clinton, and a replica of the Cabinet room, where you can sit in the President's chair.


I have a dream- that someday even short brown men with bad hair can be President...






We had a good time, but as much as we enjoyed ourselves at the Clinton Library, we were in and out in under an hour [Insert own intern joke here]. And though we couldn't stay as long as we would have liked, it's a spot the two of us will remember forever. [Insert own intern joke here]

We jump back in the car and head out to Memphis. We're not sure what time Graceland closes, so we call Keiko and use the magic of the internet to discover that Graceland closes at 5. That's two hours from now, and we're over 200 miles away. Even with our driving, we're not going to make it, and I don't intend to show up at Graceland half an hour after closing on 2 consecutive tries.

The last time I tried to see Graceland, I was on a road trip with Jeffrey, and we showed up at what must have been 530, and were forced to observe Graceland from outside the gate. Fortunately, there was plenty of Elvis/Graceland memorabilia at the shop across the street, and we had a nice dinner on Beale street, so it was still a good night. And I did once actually get to see Graceland, on a road trip with Zhian, which was a 5000 mile trip from LA to StL immediately after graduating from Pomona. My dad gave me as a graduation gift a big coffee can he had been dumping change into for ten years. The can had over $400 in change, and that's what I lived off of for 2 weeks on the road trip. Gas station attendants and waitresses hated me.

Anyway, with Graceland joining Acadia, Bryce, and Canyonlands on the cutting room floor of the BMFRTE, we arced southeast and headed for Mississippi, to catch I-55 down toward New Orleans...

Mississippi- it's like coming home. If home is an oppressively hot, humid land characterized by a legacy of widespread poverty and entrenched racism.


Since we're on the way to New Orleans, I pop in today's road trip CD- 8/27/07: A Heckuva Mix

1) What You Gonna Do - Buckwheat Zydeco
2) Graceland - Paul Simon
3) Walking in Memphis - Mark Cohen
4) Tennessee - Arrested Development
5) Movin' to Virginia - Split Lip Rayfield
6) Carolina in My Mind - James Taylor
7) Midnight Train to Georgia -
8) Georgia on My Mind - Ray Charles
9) Woke Up This Morning - Alabama 3
10) Sweet Home Alabama - Lynyrd Skynyrd
11) Welcome to Paradise - Front 242
12) Rainy Days and Mondays - The Carpenters
13) House of the Rising Sun - The Animals
14) Waiting for the Miracle - Leonard Cohen
15) History Repeating - The Propellerheads
16) Your Racist Friend - They Might Be Giants
17) Red Right Hand - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds
18) Send in the Clowns - Judy Collins

We drive the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening, stopping only once, in a little roadside town, to get gas and food. The food is in a lean-to attached to the gas station. It's definitely one of the sketchiest places I've eaten in a long, long time (and that's saying something), but the food is surprisingly good. The place is staffed by a gigantic black woman, and we immediately decide that we'd better be good to Mama, or Mama'll beat us to within an inch of our lives. She serves us up some fried chicken that was both extremely greasy, and extremely good, as were the mashed potatoes, and the corn nuggets (deep fried corn- here in the Deep South, there ain't nuthin' that kain't be deep fried).

We get back on the road, and roll into New Orleans around 10pm. We head straight to the French Quarter, and drive around looking for a hotel. We finally find the Hotel Monteleone, which turns out to be a really sweet hotel, but perhaps due to a combination of post-Katrina blues plus a Monday night in a quiet time of the year, is super cheap. It's also only a block from Bourbon St., which could be convenient later if we're going to be stumbling home drunk.


The French Quarter from the hotel room window.







This from Ed: "We check in, change, and head out to Bourbon St. This place is obviously debauchery central, even on a Monday night. Cool bars... live music... I love Bourbon St and the French Quarter immediately.

We walk up and down the entire street, and the only disappointing thing is that we can't find food (we're both starving). So we walk over a couple blocks to a 24-hr food place where we are immediately welcomed by the friendliest -and pretty odd- waitress. She's got a southern accent that both Gus and I think is fake, she's about 6'3", she's dressed like a midwest farmer's daughter with the short shorts and cowboy boots, she's got painted eyebrows, and she's super friendly and talkative... oh, and she calls everyone 'honey'.

Over the course of the meal, she has some choice phrases: her wrist is bandaged up, and when Gus asks what happened she replies that 'a boy's face ran into my hand.' Later, while telling us about some good local stripclubs, she tells us how one of her friends 'dropped $1000 on lapdances and didn't even bust a nut.' This is good stuff."

Yeah, although we'll never know for sure, and, speaking for both of us, we don't ever want to know for sure, I'm pretty sure we were talking to Mangelina, if you know what I mean. We left a nice tip and got the hell out there, because we were already getting the story about how she had just moved back there and was living in a crappy situation and didn't even have a bed yet. Uh, yeah, whew, look at the time...

So we head back to Bourbon St., and after stopping a bit to watch some filming taking place on the streetcorner of what was either a very low-budget porn movie or yet another installment of Girls Gone Wild, we started aggressively bar-hopping. There was good music, and drinks were two-for-one everywhere, and after a while we started adopting a policy of hanging out until the place we were in closed and kicked us out.

Sometime after 3 a.m., we found ourselves in a bar that was still going strong, and filled with drunk trashy girls making spectacles of themselves on the dance floor. Between that entertainment and just grooving out off toward the side of the dance floor, I was happy. Yep, happy. Just minding my own business. At one point, I turn to the side to see what's going on with Ed, and I see him talking to one of the waitresses, and pointing my way. I look away quickly, hoping that Ed's not trying to cause some kind of trouble.

Two seconds later, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to look, and there is the waitress standing right in front of me. I have just enough time to register that it's her before she puts her hand on my forehead, shoves me down to my knees, takes 2 test tubes of liquor from this rack she's been carrying around all night, more or less deep throats the test tubes from the bottom, so that only a fraction of the tops are protruding from her mouth, and then mimes french kissing me, which has the effect of dumping 2 test tubes full of liquor down my throat.

Now, she would not have been able to get away with this normally, but having the element of surprise, as well as the additional advantage of being sober, versus my having spent the last 4 hours drinking with Ed (which has historically led to a lot of pain and suffering on my part), she was able to bushwhack me. It all happened with blinding speed- I had only enough time to think "OMG, am I being assaulted right now? Why couldn't I be assaulted by a cute waitress?" and then it was over. Of course, the next thing that happened was my trying to figure out what had just been put down my throat, and in a moment I realized what it was- Jagermeister. BLECH! I can do vodka shots all night long and been fine, but all I need to do is sniff Jager and I want to puke. I look over at Ed, and he is doubled over in laughter, slapping his knee. He is very pleased with himself. I want to kill him, but I'm afraid any sudden moves may make me vomit.

This from Ed: "One of the highlights of the evening, at least for me, was when one of those girls whose job is to sell shots out of test tubes, comes up to me at about 3 a.m. and says 'Help me out. If I get rid of these last few shots, I can get out of here.' So I ask her what's in the test tubes and she says 'Jager.' Knowing how fond Gus is of Jager, I immediately point at him and say 'My friend would love a shot.' Without hesitation this girl walks over to Gus, who can't hear any of this over the music, puts two test tubes in her own mouth, grabs Gus's head, and pours the shots from her mouth into his. It was hilarious; I think he almost threw up right back into her mouth. Of course, while I'm cracking up, she comes over and does the same to me, so I end up buying 4 shots... worth every penny. So the night was good- we closed down Bourbon Street."

Yeah, that's pretty fucking hilarious.

Vengeance shall be mine...