We feel like Orphan Annie, dazzled by the sight of Daddy Warbucks’ huge … hotel. We can explain, but first, a detour.
Last we blogged, we were mid-journey in Lake Charles, Louisiana, in a Starbucks slurping refreshingly cold coffee. What happened next can only be described as magical – we were whisked away to Sha Sha’s of Creole by Megan, a friend of our friend Tico. We talked Mardi Gras, casinos, and growing up in the LC. At Sha Sha’s, a downtown eatery, we were charmed by the, um, friedoreosandfriedbreadpudding. (I mean, just a sliver! Please!) Shrimps on potatoes and po-boys, and man were we happy! Our waitress gave good sass to Andy (it’s like the call of a Myna bird to him: Sass and ye shall receive) and helpful directions to a Lake Charles Post Office to Kate where we picked up a roll of stamps to correspond to you, dear reader. All who have sent snail mail addresses our way (gayplace@austinchronicle.com) are going to receive a special be-stickered token/treat from our (mis)adventures. We needed post cards, obvies, so where better to pick some up than the Lake Charles Convention & Visitors Bureau? too bad we’re not here during Mardi Gras, now that would be decadent. We should definitely come back for that. Anyone in?!?
Then we drove through a cloudhead the size of Valhalla and the color of sopping wet ash. We were afraid, and despaired, thinking the rains would pour down and ruin our first night in New Orleans. But we’re lucky, and stayed spot-free all the way into NOLA. We then turned into the parking garage of the Hotel Monteleone, an official Historic Hotel of America, and home to the famous Carousel Bar, with which we’ve already become intimately familiar (more on this later – it deserves its own post). We had to type that last sentence three times before it was suitable enough for any decent Manual of Style. And even then…
The hotel staff members who greeted us, Meenakshi and Keoka, were maybe the most delightful people in the world and made us feel at home immediately. And get this: we actually talked football! We don’t know what came over us but we were waxing poetical about a game we only heard about secondhand (we offered our condolences to the Tiger-loving Monteleone staffers and neglected to mention that two of our good friends are heavily invested in the football team whose chant-de-vivre rhymes with “Whole Hide”)! Football! Us!
Now, remember how we said we were like Orphan Annie? Picture us, dressed down and dour for a 12-hour car ride, bleary-eyed and grey. Ladies and Gentihommes, stepping into the Hotel Monteleone, we were immediately outclassed. The well-appointed hotel is a typically New Orleanian blend of pattern (in gold, of courrrrrse) and comfort. The bathroom alone was enough to make Andy want to quit life and figure out how he could live here indefinitely (as this sentence is being typed he’s looking for floorboards/attics/air vents – he’s seen Aliens and he’s Jewish so he knows how to hide). Kate took the opportunity to spend a luxurious two-hours be-robed and eating oysters from Felix’s… which is to say, she was in her own kind of heaven. Did we mention that most of this happened in the whirlpool tub? Dang.
It’s hard not to gloat, but COME ON! We’re living the dream. And so we’re bringing the dream to you. We’re not dream-hogs! Although it’s a temporary dream, and one that makes these two worker-bees feel like the queen bee herself, it’s a good dream.
Tonight we’ll be going to The Frat House (we shit you not!) to see the Carnival Kings (NOLA drag kings) perform all kinds of wonderous gender-critiquing acts of affirming queerness. Andy’s wearing his dangly earring, Kate is pompadour-ed with Top Brass… in other words we’re living proof that unicorns still exist, and we’re representing your queer asses in style. We’re also hooking up with our friend from Chainbow, Kevin Parks-Hauser, who happens to be in town too with his hot li’l boo! Squee!
Keep an eye on the blog and our FB and twitter feeds, as always, because tomorrow will be day one of our P.2 art frenzy.
Until then, we’re Fine & Dandy with Kate & Andy.
This article appears in 2011.