Lagniappe

Mardi Gras, we had talked about it throughout our senior year of high school, but now that I was legal and on my own, I was finally able to take that drive from Jackson. Mama would probably freak out if she knew I had come to debaucherous New Orleans...wait is debaucherous a word?

"Hey, Sharde, is 'debaucherous' a word?" She eyed me suspiciously. No doubt realizing that my head had been in the clouds again. Then with a michevious grin she said, "Sounds like one to me, and the right one at that. We're in fucking new orleans baby! During mardi gras season no less. 'Debaucherous' is a GREAT fucking word"

"You have such an eloquent way of wording things, Sharde", I retorted in a half-hearted pretentious way, because i too was excited enough to cuss.

It was our first day in new Orleans, the day before Mardi Gras, The locals called it lundi gras, but the festivities were already in in full effect. In the french quarter, where we roamed around taking in the city, people were already in mardi gras attire; purple, gold, green, masks, wands, interesting costumes, no costumes, no clothes. And the alcohol, the alcohol fueled it all, everyone had something strong in their hand. It was almost unbelievable to imagine something like this existing smack dab in the middle of the bible belt This is what we were expecting, but it was definitely larger than life to witness it all first hand.

"So we're doing the tourist thing today, huh?", Sharde said as she looked around, not attempting to hide the annoyance in her voice.

"We are tourist, everything we do is a "tourist thing", I shot back. "And besides, we'll have all tonight and tomorrow to for all the debauchery we can handle. For right now though, I want to check out some of these shops while we're still sober. I want to pick up some souvenirs."

"Fine, but now I want extra debauchery tomorrow night"

"I Think we can manage that."



We went through the entire french quarter; from Esplanade to canal to rampart and every store in between. I had purchased a couple of things. Mostly shoddy touristy things that would probably break as soon as i got them home: a couple of shot glasses with colorful language on them, an "authentic" alligator jaw, some hot sauce that looked like it would probably give you a stroke if you so much as put it near your mouth, and a T-shirt with the standard tourist greetings on it.

As we walked down a street that contained many interesting, intertwined aromas, something like the my mama's cooking on a Sunday and a garbage truck on a Thursday(I guess they hadn't gotten around to hosing down this st. yet), we stopped in front of a store called "Bon Temps" or "Good Times" which seemed to be a phrase used often here when it came to restaurants or store fronts.

The store had what seemed to be the standard New Orleans tourist fare - beads, masks, postcards, hot sauce - the usual. But there was something peculiar about it.

"Let's go in", I said. "Another one?", Sharde asked shortly. "Last one I promise"