I Was There: "... And This Couple Starts Having Sex In The Window Of The Bar"

The bon temps rouler-ed all weekend long in New Orleans, and Mike was there in his bumblebee costume. We're told he's still drunk. Let's pick up his account midstream:

Headed to some parades, then to the Milan Lounge where two fantastic things happened. First, some jackass was ringing a cowbell in the bar. The bartender told the guy to "stop ringing the fucking bell." He didn't. So this 60 year old bartender leaps the bar and goes after the guy, finally catching him outside and jacking him. I've never seen someone move that fast. Then, our friend Dylan informs us of a costume party going on at Michelopolis' art warehouse. I wore my friend Hilary's super tight, female bumble bee costume and felt underdressed. Naked people everywhere. Band was great. They opened, of course, with 'Stand up and get Crunk'. Wake up, head to Parasols and have a dozen oysters, get my game face on. Head to the Kingpin for the game. place is slammed. My friend Les, a die hard fan of 40 + years, is wearing a Mexican blanket with a huge Fleur De Lis on it in black and gold. Les is probably about 300 lbs. Best outfit of all time. Anyway, game starts, they go down 10-0 fast, but everyone still had a feeling. When that interception happened at the end to seal it, I've never heard a bar as loud as it was in there. Total hysteria. So then we head downtown to celebrate. Everyone thinks Bourbon Street is where it's at, but the real party is on Frenchman Street. Head there, mass euphoria out of everyone. Then, a brass band shows up in the street and I convince them to march through the Marigny and into the French Quarter. Amazing. Just people going insane. Get back to Frenchman and head to the Blue Nile to see more music. For whatever reason, we start chanting "Sex, sex, sex" and this couple starts having sex in the window of the bar. That's how crazy it got. Supposed to have a flight Monday afternoon. Not happening because of snow storm in DC. Here till Thursday now. Party kept rolling last night, involving me shirtless bartending at Parasols. About to head to the victory parade. Let's fucking do this! Geaux Saints! In a history of great weekends, this one takes the cake. Best weekend of my life. Hands down.

Hat tip to Gawker sales lady Meredith Katz. Probably unrelated photo by Brett Duke, The Times-Picayune.

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