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March 01, 2005
Mad Dog?
"Hey, Brian! Come here." Emma called me over for something. She sounded excited and I wanted to know why. What in the liquor store could cause such excitement?
"What's up?"
"Look!"
"Woah. Mad Dog. I used drink that suff all the -- What the hell? The green used to be kiwi something. -- Strawberry Kiwi, maybe? -- Kiwi. I remember that. What the hell is Spiked Melon?"
"I think we should get it."
"Well, yeah. It says Bling Bling." I don't think she knew why I said that, but when I grabbed the bottle on the way to the dollar theater she found out."
"Bling Bling. That's awesome. It says 'Bling Bling' on it."
"What? It says that on the bottle."
"Hell, yeah. It's got a freaking gold chain on it that says 'Bling Bling.'"
"No way."
"Yeah. Look at it." Right below the Mad Dog label there was the bling.
"Awesome."
"Look how sophisticated it makes me look. I'm looking pretty rich just holding it aren't I?"
"Oh yeah."
"Too bad it's dark in the theater."
We smuggled the bottle into the dollar theater and sat in back drinking it. A row back from the family drinking pint cans of Natural Ice.
Wow! It even tastes vaguely of melon.
"Yuck. It tastes aweful."
"What!"
"It's horrible."
"Whatever. More for me."
I didn't drink it all, Emma did help some. Still, I was a bit let down by the buzz. I used to get so drunk off this stuff. And they even upped the alcohol content so Grape Wine isn't the only flavor with 13%
I used to get so drunk on that stuff every Monday night. I'd go down to the Four Star liquor store, buy a lottery ticket and a bottle of Mad Dog...Damn that was good.
I used to be so into that stuff I felt like I was betraying it that time I bought Night Train.
I drove from Chicago down to New Orleans with my girlfriend-at-the-time. We were supposed to meet a couple other friends at the Family Inn off I-10 in East New Orleans. One of the guys we were supposed to meet had a couple rooms reserved in his name. I was surprised the motel took reservations, but life is full of little surprises.
We showed up a little later than expected I think we were supposed to be there around noon and we showed up after one - instead of driving all night we decided to take a nap somewhere along the way. They decided on noon only driving down from Louisville, Kentucky, and we obliged because they were shelling out the 29.99 for each room.
But when we showed up they were nowhere to be found. Neither of their cars were in the parking lot. Dan's big assed AMC Eagle wasn't there. Dale's Ford Festiva wasn't there either. We went into the bullet-proof lobby and after being awestruck by the lack of -- well, anything besides bullet-proof glass -- we rang the doorbell for service. We asked if our friends had shown up and checked in thinking maybe we missed them and they started their drinking binge without us.
"No."
"Well, can we check in then?"
"No. We need an ID with the name of the individual that made the reservations."
"He's not here yet."
"You can wait by the pool." They had an outdoor pool across the parking lot from the hotel.
"Can we just get another room?"
"No. No vacancy." Apparently it was the weekend of the Essence Music Festival and all the rooms across East New Orleans were booked. "You can wait by the pool."
So we did just that. We figured it was only going to take a few minutes. But after getting tired of sitting by the pool we changed in the car and hopped in the pool. After tiring of swimming we sat by the pool, then in the car to stay in the shade. After tiring of sitting we swam. Then sat at the poolside. Then the car.
They showed up about 6pm, and not a moment too soon, I was starting to feel sun burned.
"Woah. You guys are all red!"
"Yeah, we've been waiting out here all day. They wouldn't let us get a room. They're all full."
"Sorry about that. We had to pick up Jeff in Alabama." They showed up with a girl we knew and four guys we didn't. One of them must have been Jeff. "When we told him we were coming down here he said we had to pick him up at his mom's in 'Bama."
We checked in to the rooms and consensus was drinking should begin right there and then. "We've been here all day. We needed water and saw they sell liquor at the campground across the street. Next to the porno store." We went across the street and bought out the campground's tiny liquor selection.
"Is there anyplace else around here that sells liquor?"
We were in luck, there was another place according the toothless old man at the campground. If we needed a second round before heading into the city we just had to go to the Deli down the street."
"I thought he said the 'Delight' store."
"I don't know. He said it was on the right, though. Right?"
"Yeah. I think."
Once we got back to the motel we divided the alcohol and by luck of the draw I got a bottle of Mad Dog. Then we ferociously began drinking. We were on a mission. We were there to get drunk and have fun. In that order. There was no fun to be had outside of the influence of alcohol.
Something about driving nearly all night, not eating much all day and getting painfully sunburned made the mission easy for me. But I still went along with everyone else when it was decided that we needed another round. In fact, I went shotgun. I wanted another bottle of Mad Dog and went along to ensure one was purchased.
But there was no Mad Dog at the store on the right. They had other wino drinks, but no Mad Dog. I was disappointed and curious at the same time. Sure I'd be cheating on my true love, Mad Dog, but only because she wasn't there. She wouldn't know. It wouldn't hurt her. Plus I'd get to try something new. Night Train or Wild Irish Rose?
Wild Irish Rose or Night Train?
Oh! There's more alcohol in Night Train.
More alcohol was the last thing I needed, but it was what I got. I broke into the bottle on the way back to the hotel.
I'm not sure exactly how long it was that we were back at the hotel, but I found myself feeling sunburned, sick, drunk and naked out in the parking lot. I had already run out of the second floor room and across the parking lot. Gone skinny dipping in the pool in front of some of the families passing the hours before the Essence Festival and run from the security guard someone had reported me to.
I dipped in between cars and made it up to the room. The problem was we were the only white people in the motel and the security guard went straight up to the room. They stuffed me into the bathroom and told the security guard they threw my clothes at me and kicked me out of the room already. There was no need to kick everyone out.
He went along with the story and soon we all left for the French Quarter. Me drunk and obnoxious. Everyone else mad at me for nearly getting them kicked out of the motel.
Along the way everyone got pissed at me again (Come on. Why can't a guy ride on top of the cab of the truck on the interstate?) and when we got to the French Quarter I was sent on my own.
I wandered through what seem to me even now to be ghetto. After a couple hours I was reunited with my friends.
Still drunk I called out to them, "Look what I got!"
I had just cashed a paycheck the day before leaving and had enough money in my bank account to drunkenly buy a $700 portrait of a man with a dog head.
"Look what I got. Isn't it great?"
Posted by calculatoronfire at March 1, 2005 09:59 PM
Comments
Do you still have the portrait?
Posted by: mike at March 2, 2005 11:36 AM
Of Course!
For $700 this thing better get passed down to my great-great-great-grandkids.
Posted by: brian at March 2, 2005 04:12 PM
All right! MAd DOG!!!
oh yeah, for the Directv guy...
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Directv
Posted by: chris at March 3, 2005 02:52 PM
cool story
Posted by: Michael at December 29, 2005 06:10 PM