Drinking The World

Tales has been hard on me this year, but that's nothing new. This year I blame it on superstition. I'm staying in a hotel that tries unsuccessfully not to have an unlucky floor. To avoid bad luck they went from floor 12, skipped over 13, and straight to 14. The thing is, the 14th is in fact the 13th, and I bet you can guess which one I am on. Yup, you're right, the "14th" floor. Of course they also skip room 13, want to guess which room I am in?

Thursday I realized I had over-scheduled myself. Four sessions, several events, and a Spirited Dinner. I started the day with a session that actually bored me and I left. This meant I had enough time to stop by the Cointreau relaxation room. Beautifully set up for media and presenters to de-stress, this room was tantalizingly scented with the dozens and dozens of oranges artfully displayed with candles, their flames warming them and releasing the citrus oils. Soft and relaxing music, so quiet as to be barely noticeable, and two massage therapists giving free back-rubs. I took full advantage of this and had my first massage in months, Aaaaah.

Follow up:

I spent the rest of the day at sessions, at least somewhat so. I would go to a session, and halfway through find that I knew as much about the subject as the presenters. Mid-afternoon I ran into my friend Ted Haigh, known to many as "Dr. Cocktail" and Robert "Drinkboy" Hess. We had forty minutes to catch up, and they sampled some prototypes I have been developing over the past year. We tried to schedule time to hang out, then Doc was off to lead a session.

I met up with Francine and dragged her to the Cointreau room and we got massages and relaxed a bit. Life isn't all bad when you can get two massages in one day. Then we headed to the VIP happy hour/cocktail carnival at the Presbytere Mardi Gras Museum in Jackson Square. This was a cocktail overload. Four dozen of the best mixologists in the country set up all over the museum, plying their trade, and serving cocktails that left you spinning. I managed at least one sip of at least 50% of them over a few hours, with nibbles on appetizers here and there. I didn't want to fully partake because I knew that I had my Spirited Dinner coming up in a few hours.

The high point of the evening was my Spirited Dinner at Bayona Restaurant with Junior Merino. I covered that on the Tales Blog, and will post it separately here as well.

After the Spirited Dinner I headed back to the Monteleone to catch a shuttle bus to an event. Usually if you stand outside the Monteleone during Tales, or in the lobby, you will see someone you know pass by every few seconds. Not tonight. I figured that everyone was at the event and I would catch up with them there. No such luck. while the event was crowded there was not a single media or industry person to be found. Out of the literally hundreds of people I knew at Tales, none were there. The event wasn't very good, unless you like burlesque, cheap thrills, tawdry clothes, and being hit on by girls (and guys) half your age. Hey, usually this is fine, but there was something so tacky about it I had to escape fast, before I lost my newly re-found innocence.

I saw that I had a whole stack of texts from folks on my phone that hadn't come through and headed back to the French Quarter. It was a madhouse. It looked like the peak of Mardi Gras from back when I used to visit in my early 20's. Streets crowded with drunken fools, milling about, getting nekkid, throwing and catching beads, dressed skankily in transparent tops, and bottoms too. I have no problems with flesh but it has to be attractive. Gag! I lit a cigar, clenched it firmly in my teeth, and forced my way through the throngs in thongs. Blowing smoke at anyone who got too close like a fire breathing dragon.

I made it to Absinthe House where I met up with friends. Totally drenched in sweat, but enjoying my fine Fuente Don Carlos cigar, what I consider to be one of, if not the best in the world. As soon as I came in sight cold, dark, tasty beer was thrust in my hand, and kept coming along before I finished the last. Then absinthe, cachaca, and other spirituous libations. I tried to say no, and passed several on unobtrusively, but managed to down a few of the better choices. Finally the crowds got to be too much, and I said my good nights and tottered off to my hotel.