It's my birthday week, so I decided to go out every single night and get as many free cocktails as I could. I didn't want this week to be any different from any other week. Why? Because I really don't want anyone to make any fuss and celebrate this BIG birthday of mine. That's why I'm writing about it, because I don't want any flowers (like colorful spring mixes of gerber daisies and lillies from Dunn and Sonnier) or male strippers (www.new-orleans-strippers.com) or any gorgeous jewelry from local artisan Mignon Faget (www.mignonfaget.com).
Please. Don't feel like you have to make me feel good now that I have left my dewy youth behind. I'm fine. Really. Look out cougars! There's a new cat in town and she's feeling good! But she's a touch bi-polar and the pendulum is bound to swing at any moment... So, hide anything with hair on it.
On Friday, LaSwan (Lady Across the Street Without A Name) and I went uptown with two of my dear lesbian lady friends to a bar called "Phillip's." It's a college bar near Tulane's campus. I decided this cougar would grab the bull by the horns, or anything else I could get my liver spotted hands on. I thought I would feel a little out of place, but boy did I feel better when the waitress (in a skirt so short I could see her navel) put this in front of me.
I thought someone had told them it was my birthday week. Why else would someone hand you a free glass of bacon. Turns out, they give EVERYONE who orders a drink a glass full of fried and sugar coated pork belly. Now, that's New Orleans! Where else? Believe me! Can you imagine the looks on the queens' faces in San Francisco or Boston if a you plopped a glass of bacon in front of them? They'd probably run screaming out the door and onto a stair master just for looking at it.
Anyhoo, I don't know what happened after the glass was empty. Well, my glass never is...
On a sad note, Ms. Clara wasn't in her chair this morning. I hope everything is okay.
Don't worry about me,
Dunn and Sonnier