First, I don't have much in the way of cash so I'm trying to hold onto what I do have for dear life. Also, I have always hated using ATMs that would charge me fees for using them, especially when I know my bank will do the same. Not that there's really much in the bank available for withdrawal to begin with.
So with no cash, that means no cab. Unless there's a cab that accepts credit cards, which I seriously doubt. But I didn't even ask. So I drove into the city.
Driving into the city is not inherently a problem like it would be in a place like New York. New Orleans is not a terribly busy city bogged down with traffic problems. It does have its share of crazy drivers, however. But the first challenge in driving in New Orleans is finding somewhere to park. Street parking is very limited, and garages cost upwards of $5 with many closer to $13. And who knows if that means paying with cash. Again, I didn't ask.
After circling around a loop a few times last night, I did manage to find one single space -- street parking. There was a meter, but I didn't know if I had to feed it or not. Again, I didn't ask, and I left the meter hungry, which it seems was the right thing to do. No tickets!
But since I was driving, I didn't want to drink. And walking around the French Quarter of New Orleans without a drink in your hand automatically differentiates you from almost everyone else. For the most part, the only people without drinks in their hand are:
1.) the barkers, whose job it is to draw people inside to the bars and clubs where they work;and
B.) the bums, who are begging for money explicitly so they can get "a cold one." At least they're up front in telling you why they want your money!If you're not drinking, you probably don't want to be bothered by drunk people either. And that's all everybody is in town, drunk. And with all the competing loud music emanating from inside every club's open door, walking up and down Bourbon Street is absolutely uncomfortable acoustically. It would take several drinks to soothe my ears and make me think of something else.
So what do you do if you can't drink? You eat. You always hear about Cajun cuisine in this city. But it's late, and most of the famous restaurants have closed by this hour, so you're stuck with standard late-night fare: burgers and fries and crap. Disappointing if you were hoping for a bowl of gumbo or jambalaya. Hmmm, this place sells pizza by the slice. It's $4 per slice. If you want a topping, it's $5. Oh, and it's cash only. No, thank you.
Oh, great. There's another bum who wants my money so he can get a "cold one." Why does everybody think my name is Big Guy? Is that the only discernible trait I possess, big? I didn't ask.
Putting up with all of these elements alone is just unbearable. Alone and sober? I'm hopping the next flight to anywhere. Or, I'll just stay and let someone else drive me around and buy me drinks.
