new years eve

Thanks to Carlos's suggestion, I ended up with him, Marshall and Brandon downtown for the festivities. It was better than moping in my bed, I figured, right?

Canal St. looked like Times Square... well, ok, maybe Times Square on a Wednesday.....in July, but still, it was nice to see the street vendors and the hordes of tourists down there.

We first made our way to the recently rechristened Roosevelt (née Fairmont) which has gone back to her original name.

The bar was beautiful, old art deco panelling, but lots of people. My three year old velvet blazer seemed kind of ubiquitous there, but whatever....

I had a Sazerac, finally. It's the state cocktail of Louisiana, I believe. I know there had been a bill or something put forth a while back to have it named as such. It should be on the flag instead of that damned pelican.

Anyway, I'd never actually had one....and I really didn't like it much, but at 10 dollars a pop, I drank it all....licked the glass clean...and stole it. Marshall encouraged me in this theft. He took his too. The new year should be about finally doing things you've long wanted to, right? Like theft.

We did not venture near the hotel's famous Blue Room. Too rich for our bloods. I'd like to one day, however. The renovations of the hotel post K are wonderful, I have to say.

Along the way, Carlos came up with a game: spot the queer. One point for each gay man, 8 points for each lesbian. As we went further into the quarter, however, it just got way too easy. Who can keep count. There was some initial cheating, but Carlos deserved at least a triple word score for seeing a touristy lesbian couple (with diamond earrings, holding hands!)

On the other hand, the young gayling I spotted pirouetting across the lobby, dressed what looked like, for all the world, to me....a snappy pair of black palazzo pants and a Danskin leotard, probably only deserved .5 points for me.

You know, too easy.

They'd decorated the lobby like a winter wonderland. No wonder he felt the need to pirouette. I want that clock by the way.

After that, we decided to each pick another non gay bar to visit. I picked The Carousel Bar in the Monteleone, also very crowded. It's lovely there, though the rotating of the bar can make you a little dizzy after a Sazerac. Being a designated driver, I opted for a water here.


Brandon, despite his adamant insistence to avoid the gay bars, tossed out his suggestion: the Corner Pocket, hell, I'd have gone...but that didn't seem to fly with Carlos and Marshall. I'm sure that was for the best, so we remained true to our mission

We made our way to Marshall's pick...the Touché Bar. I couldn't find any photos of it, but imagine a middle class suburban Anglophile's basement den in oh, say, 1970 or so. Lots of brick, panelling, swords, naugahyde, you get the picture. The decor, up until Katrina had remained 1970 pristine...but since, they've sort of 1994ed it up a bit. Put "art glass" pendants and some Kirkland's half off sale items, it seems. Shame.

Anyway, it was too crowded there with Sugar Bowl fans to even get a drink, so we wandered about looking for some food.

Ultimately We found ourselves at midnight in front of the Cathedral with thousands of others watching the fireworks. No one got hit by flying bullets (a local tradtion), so all in all, I'd say the year's begun as a success.