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Toilets

2001-10-27: Rivershack

The Rivershack is a really cool bar. They have good chicken fingers and all of the barstool legs are made out of mannequin legs. This picture is of course of the bathroom, and as you can see even there it's pretty cool as evidenced by the police style body outline.

You'll note that the urinal is a trough. I've never understood the trough. I mean, women are generally all touchy feely and go to the bathroom together, while men go alone and don't particularly like to interact with one another while there. So why the hell is it that women get private stalls while men have to line up in the penis comparison trough?

I was actually incapable of urinating in one of these things until I was about 21. I can't tell you the number of times I pulled the "oh, I'm not here to urinate...just here to wash my hands" move when there were penis judges lined up at the trough.
*UPDATE*
At the owner's request, the Rivershack has been moved to top billing in the Toilets of New Orleans page.

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2003-03-13: The Balcony

You may remember from an earlier toilet adventure that a bulldog pint glass came into my possession. I acquired this treasure at the Balcony. I ordered a pint of Blue Moon beer and it came in a Bulldog Glass. The bartender told me, "Hey, and you can keep the glass because it's not ours."

So I did.

The Balcony is Uptown, across the street from the Bulldog. It is quite the archetypal uptown spot. While I prefer downtown for various aesthetic and comfortability reasons, I have to admit that some beautiful women hang out at the Balcony et al.

Typing that just made me remember something. At the Quintron show the other night I saw a beautiful girl who I knew I had seen before. I wracked my brain trying to figure out how I knew her. She kept looking at me. As talkative and social as I am, I almost never walk up to strangers and start a conversation. 99% of the time I wait for them to initiate conversation. I guess I'm shy (initially). Since I couldn't remember how I knew this girl, she remained a stranger and I did not talk to her.

I now remember her. She is the girl who was sitting next to me at the Balcony when I purloined the bulldog glass. Indeed, she initiated conversation with me and we had a grand old time, thus making her no longer a stranger. I wish I would have remembered this at the Quintron show.

Lesson learned: Don't be so adverse to going uptown.

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2003-06-09: Miss May's

Miss May's is on Magazine and Napolean. Miss May's has very very cheap drinks, but you end up paying for it.

More on that in a second.

The bathroom was quite high traffic on this particular night, and I had to stand in the stall pretending to go for quite a while before I was alone. The second the door closed I hit the flash and the deed was done. Because of the somewhat stressful circumstances under which the photograph was taken, it ended up being a somewhat haphazard shot.

I am not quite sure why there is a wooden surface attached to the top of the toilet. It may be that it is intended as a shelf for you to place your drink while you go. A lot of people take their drink into the bathroom with them, and some of those often leave the drink on top of the toilet. Perhaps this is a way to avoid broken bottles on the ground.

On the night in question I noticed that the bartender was more than a little bit of a...how to put this nicely...fucking dickhead. He wouldn't make eye contact, and would just blatantly ignore you as he served drinks to other people. What was amazing is that it seemed that he managed to continually make drinks while at the same time ignoring absolutely everyone. I suspect that he had shills planted in the crowd that didn't actually drink the drinks, but rather go into the bathroom and pour them down the toilet, thus maximizing the appearance of serving customers while actually ignoring and infuriating every actual customer in the joint.

My friend Jessica wanted to order 14 drinks for all of our friends. The bartender flat out said no. He didn't give a reason. He just said no. They got into a very heated argument. The argument took longer than it would have taken for him to make the drinks. I understand that it's a busy place. I can also understand why he would refuse this large order. But you kind of had to see this guy to understand. He could have easily said, "Sorry, it's really busy and my help isn't here. I really can't take a big order like that because I won't be able to serve anyone else while I'm making it." I am sure she would have understood. Instead, he just said no and walked away. Ass.

That aside, there was a decent crowd there. There were more than a couple of very attractive girls, which is really 95% of what a guy means when he says that a bar is cool.

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2002-05-22: Voodoo BBQ

No, I was not on the floor in a puddle of my own sick when I took this picture. I just figured I'd get a little artsy and take a worms-eye shot. This is the toilet of the Voodoo-BBQ on St. Charles not too far from Lee Circle. In the front is a BBQ joint and in the back is a bar. The bar and munchies combo is definitely one of my favorite types of haunt. Some people don't get hungry when they drink. I don't understand these people. After a few dozen (or so) beers nothing quite hits the spot like chicken wings, BBQ ribs, or a burger. This is why I spent 10 years fat. That, and an almost complete lack of physical movement other than the bowel variety.

I didn't actually eat the food, so I can't vouch for it, but I did see it. It looked and smelled good. And as they say, 80% of taste is smell, so I'm 80% sure that the food is good. On the subject of taste, did you know that cows have a more acute sense of taste than humans? What in the hell for? They eat nothing but grass. Maybe they need the extra sensitivity to tell the difference between tasty gourmet grass and shitty crabgrass.

So I'm sitting at the bar, coming as close to minding my own business as one such as myself ever gets, and in walks this hottie in a red halter top. I intended to pull the "Too cool to look" move, but my libido was way ahead of me and before I could react I was pulling the "Staring and drooling at bouncy things" move. The girl looks around the bar, yells something incoherent, and starts talking to the bartenderess. She dances to the imaginary rave music. She motions and writhes. The bartender asks her a question and she stands on the first rungs of two barstools and lifts her shirt. Her twin mounds of God (or doctor) given beauty shone in the neon lights of the bar.

When you live in New Orleans you do not need strip clubs.

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2002-05-12: The Abbey

The Abbey is yet another staple of Decatur Street. As many times as I've heard of it, I had never actually been there. When I told my friend Brent that I got a shot of the Abbey toilet he said, "The Scabby? Man, I've got friends in low places."

Have you ever noticed that there are people that you see EVERY time you go to a particlar place? Whenever I see one of these people I invariably think to myself "What a loser! Do they hang out at this mall/bar/arcade every damn day?" But then an irrational panic hits me. Maybe it's just a phenomenal copincidence and they have ONLY been there when I was there. Maybe they're thinking the same thing about me. Maybe *I* am the loser that's always here.

So that night at the Abbey I saw one of these people. I swear I see this guy at least one in three times I go downtown. And not just in once place, either. He's all over the place. He is sort of like Freddy Krueger...you'll leave one place and think that you left him behind, but when you show up in the next place the guy is already there.

My recollection of the Abbey experience is...how should I say...imperfect....but I do remember having to leave rapidly after one of my entourage threw up under the table at which we were sitting.

Which allows for another segue. I hate to vomit (yes, ok, vomit is a little sexy). I mean I really really hate to vomit. It seems, however, that I am somewhat alone in this dislike. Some people vomit all of the time. Other people claim to feel better after vomiting. Not me. I feel nothing but burning shame at having lost the battle with my gag reflex. But others don't feel this way. Joe vomits practically as a matter of course. But I will fight it until the end. Even when I have to grab the ground to keep from falling off of the planet I still fight the urge. With sweat pouring down my face and everything looking like a Picasso painting I will not give in. In fact, I haven't vomited for over two years.

By the way, the "vomit is a little sexy" line is a quote from Chris Kattan's Antonio Banderas skit from SNL. I just thought I'd point that out so you didn't actually think I dug vomit.

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