NOLA 5:00 AM Death March

I almost exited this world, Friday July 9th. It was a very scary situation, let me try and recreate it for you, my would-be mourners (or so I would hope).



It was 5am and the wet New Orleans sky hung around us with a brighter hue than a typical Texas late night. I lead a tattered group of friends back from Bourbon Street with the end destination being the hotel so that we could rest our weary feet, minds and hearts. We had already walked Cohn home and successfully retired him to his bed so that he could recollect his consciousness and motor skills, both of which had escaped him earlier in the night.

So, there I am, stumbling about with the casual air of an idiot who has just made his regular idiot’s deposit at the craps table of my local branch casino, flanked on both sides with CJ the affable Asian and an umbrella yielding Pig Face who has the curious habit of walking on his tip toes with his head angled, resembling a Mexican Oswald Cobblepot. Bringing up the rear is ADHD personified; the aloof Shitty (that is his pledge name), drunk and doing honor to his name.

Now to the Action.

As I crossed the metal barriers on the median that intersected Canal St, I saw an economy sized car swerve and speed up next to us in a hazardous manner! The car door is thrown open, as if blown outward by an air cannon, and a black man with a disproportionate body (his arms were twice the size of the rest of his make up) pounces from his seat and ambles toward us, audible grunts and spittle reverberating in his nostrils, like a gorilla in the NOLA mist.

“Who threw that shit at me, was it you?” he yells, pointing a curved human-like finger at me.

“Uh what?”- I reply, confused and reactive more than heroic, at this juncture.

“One of y’all in the blue shirt. Which one was it?” he demands.

At this point the predator had honed in his threats on two people, me and Shitty. I take a quick look around and it is then I see why; Shitty and I are both wearing a blue shirt.

So, I resume being confused and, because I was emboldened, both with 190 Everclear slushies and reinforcement, by way of my three friends, I become a mouthy, insolent visitor.

After a bit of back-and-forth laced with confusion, annoyance, and disgust, the teased animal retreats back to his Nissan, rifling through the dirty laundry housed in his seat.

“Y’all from out of town. (how did he know?) This is the Murder Capital of the World, you better recognize where y’all at!”

“This ain’t the Fight capital. This ain’t the Talk shit capital. MURRRRRDAAAAA Capital.” [emphasis his]

At this taunting, it is only then that I realize the degree of seriousness and danger. Me and my ilk have made the grave mistake of wandering past the railing and intruded on a wild animal’s environment. We, while outnumbering by a ratio of 4:1, were undeniably the prey in danger as strangers in a strange land. At this revelation I change my tone and I began to gush apologies as death seems like the odds on favorites result. The apologies seemed to appease him so, his pride and manhood affirmed, he beats his chest and speeds away into the New Orleans night/morning.

Walking back to the hotel in the quiet shock of almost being mowed down in a random event that nobody knew anything about, our heavy silence is finally broken a minute or so later as Shitty begins to laugh.

“Oh my god, that was crazy. Did y’all see that? I threw that napkin right at his window and it stuck hahahahaha”.

“Um. Wut!?! You fucking idiot, why didn’t you say anything/take responsibility/you’re a bitch/etc” or some streaming response like that was all I could muster.

Shitty owes me a near death experience. Any thoughts on how I can collect?