Drinking is a sport, a way of life in New Orleans . . . for us at least. And, like good citizens of the world, we understand that if you take care of the servers, the servers will take care of you.
We drank many a tropical drink while there . . . of varying degrees of potency. Several nights, we impressed the wait staff, and not just with our tips.
Of course, the best were when we'd flag a wait person over and I'd announce, in a loud clear voice "I'd like two blow jobs please." There would be a moment when the wait person would stop . . . look to make sure he/she heard me correctly . . . and then smile a big ol' grin. Apparently, monkeys don't often request blow jobs in the Big Easy.
At the particular bar I ordered them, the blow job is a banana shot with whipped cream on top. I'd further stun the wait staff by downing the blow job "hands free." One evening, the waiter returned to offer me a ciggie and ashtray. And, I kept the shot glass.
ah, good times.
2 comments:
hmmm, yes.... I have a sudden urge to travel to N'awlins too ;D
dayum, that looks gooood. :)
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