I would be remiss if I didn't make mention of the fact that my (Superbowl champions) New Orleans Saints are squaring off tonight against the San Francisco 49ers, the city I formerly (and often begrudgingly) called home. I had to laugh at the people who actually asked who I would be rooting for. Seriously? Is that even a question?
Oh, I forgot to tell you what happened at last week's game! Jenelle and I decided to forgo Bar None, as it was disgustingly crowded three hours before the game and was only going to get worse. We decided to go to dba in Brooklyn, another Saints outpost in NYC. My friend James (also from New Orleans) met us down there as well. We get there and I notice a guy running around who looks really familiar. It took a little while, but I finally realized, holy shit, that's Jack. He used to come into a bar I worked at ten fucking years ago. I made a mental note to say hello when I got a minute.
Next thing I know, James is next to me saying, "Hey, wanderlust, have you met Jack?"
And I said, "As a matter of fact, I have. I used to get Jack drunk ten years ago. Shot of Jim Beam and a Budweiser, right Jack?"
The look on his face was priceless.
Of course he remembered me and of course we had lots of catching up to do. Turns out he moved to San Francisco for a while and hated it too! (OK, I'm being dramatic. I didn't HATE living in SF. Not all the time, anyway. I just complained a lot) He's much happier in NY, as am I.
That's the thing about New Orleans. Once you've lived there a little while, it doesn't matter where you go. If there's any sort of gathering involving New Orleans in any way, be it a Saints game, a crawfish boil, or oil-spill fundraiser, you WILL run into someone you know. You just will. Like it or not. I once ran into a guy I used to HATE at the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge in San Francisco. Fortunately for all involved, he was way too drunk to remember who I was.
But it's a beautiful thing, and I love it. Anyway, I've got to go. I have a date with James and Jack and the rest of the Who Dat nation. Bar None has no idea what it's in for.