So, now that I'm in between jobs (aka unemployed), I have the luxury to stay out as late as I want.
It might sound irresponsible to most, but I'm grateful I've gotta experience this city for what it is: a big pot of drunken fun.
I know I've never been very strict about going out and drinking, but I had to observe certain "schedules" and I could never stay out till morning any time I wantend cause I had to go to work.
Well, it's 10:22 AM and it's a Monday and I've just got home.
And yes, I'm fucking proud of it.
You couldn't believe all the thoughts I had while I was out in the past 8 hours (probably thank to the few drinks I had).
I decided I needed to share them with someone before dozing off and you're the chosen ones.
First thing you need to know about this town is, it doesn't matter how long you lived in NOLA, if you get into the Marigny Triangle coming either from Burgundy, Dauphine or Bourbon, you're gonna get lost. You're gonna walk a few blocks and then ask yourself: - where the fuck am I?!-
I think this infamous triangle should be more famous than the Bermuda's one.
Then I want you to know that, if you're a tourist, forget Frommer's, Yelp, Trip Advisor and what the fuck not. You better talk to real locals to find out about great deals. And you better be nice when you talk to locals... maybe buy them a drink or more and they're gonna tell you where all the real 2 for 1 are.
Now the sad part.
Because I drank till 9 am, I found myself in need of eating something to prevent me from blacking out on the way home.
I went to Magnolia diner, a new location in the quarter of an historical diner of the garden district.
I've never been there before, but I always heard it was good.
And it was.
The thing that made me sad was that, once more, I realized Civil Rights didn't really succeed a 100%.
Everybody behind the counter was black, everyone sitting at the counter was white.
What the fuck?!
Where are the white kids?!
I felt like I stepped back in time, approximately 60 years back.
I was simmering so much in my thoughts that my waiter came to call me back to life.
He looked at me and said: -what you thinkin bout? It looks like you gonna get ready to shoot people down-
And you know what?
For once I've been totally honest.
I didn't use all the pc lingo and white phrasing to tell him what I was thinking about.
Cause I lived here 4 years and every where I go I see and feel we're not "blending" well.
I feel it when I go to Captain Sal's in the hood. I feel it when I walk down Decatur in front of the busy black clubs. And I fucking sense it when I sit at my bar and some black dude walks in.
It's real people.
You can just turn your head, pretend you don't see it, but it's there and it's real.
Most black people don't like white people and viceversa.
We don't go to the same stores, we don't hang out at the same bars and we don't eat the same food.
Do I like it?
I hate it.
Of course you'll see black and white people talking and being civil, but I tell you this is not the rule. This is not everywhere.
I do live a block off the hood. Go there and see how long it takes you to realize you don't belong...
But I'm different (because I'm a foreigner) and therefore I tend to blend in better.
In fact, the Magnolia waiter, loved me so much he tried to get me to fill out an application to work there.
Different is good. Different is scary.
If you've never been to the Deep South, come get a look, it's great, just don't be fooled by the tourist environment the city has created, it's not all fun.