Big Easy Escapade (7 page)

They finished up at the Shoe-Be-Do and slowly
made their way down Chartres, stopping at a few art galleries along
the way. Their favorite painting was of a Chihuahua looking in a
mirror and seeing a German shepherd as his reflection. The one
beside it was of a cat doing the same but seeing a lion.

They stopped at a walk-up bar and got a round
of hurricanes to go, then went straight to the hotel. They took
turns getting freshened up and trying on Vivian’s shoes while
working on their drinks.

Wendy held up two tops. “Which one of these
should I wear tonight?”

“Whichever one looks best with your
bachelorette sash,” Lucy said. “But I think the red one.”

Wendy slipped on a black tank top, then
pulled on the red, semi-sheer cotton blouse with red and black
swirly designs and beaded cuffs.

“Looks cute with your black capris and new
Italian shoes!” Lucy said. “This is what I’m wearing.” She held up
a solid emerald green V-neck sundress. “It hits right above my
knee, compliments of my fabulous seamstress.”

“Love that color,” Vivian said. “I’d steal it
but I think it’d be too short. Would look great with my eyes!”

Kate poked her head out of the bathroom.
“What are you wearing, Viv?”

Vivian dug into the disorganized drawer and
pulled out a flowy poncho-style top, turquoise, green and pale
yellow with beads sprinkled around the neckline.

“Ooooh, like that,” Wendy said, touching it.
“Which pair of new shoes are you going to wear?”

“Probably the Yoyo-wanna-be wooden ones with
the jean and brown on top. We can match!”

Kate, hair and makeup done but still wrapped
in a towel, broke out the iron and ironing board. She then set to
de-wrinkling her purple, button-down top and white skirt.

Once everyone was ready, they sat Wendy on
the edge of the bed. Vivian pulled out a hot pink bag with velvet
kisses all over it and handed it to her. “What’s in here rhymes
with Cabildo. And it’s rechargeable.”

Wendy took the bag, which was quite heavy,
glanced inside and gasped. Kate snapped a picture.

Vivian just smiled. “You’ll thank me. Trust
me.”

Kate handed Wendy a pure white box with a
white satin ribbon. “Mine’s not nearly as trashy, but I think Jake
will like it nonetheless.”

Wendy pulled the ribbon, which fell to the
floor, and opened the box. She held up a white, lacy negligee.

“There’s a garter in there, too,” Kate
said.

Wendy blushed. “Thanks, Kate. It’s
beautiful.”

“One left!” Lucy handed her a red bag with
silver metallic strands pouring over the sides.

Wendy threw the confetti all over the girls
and the room. “I like this stuff! Reminds me of Christmas
tinsel.”

She dug into the bag and pulled out some
massage oils and a heart-shaped candle. She popped the lid on the
candle. “Mmmm, smells good. Thanks, Lucy.”

“It’s not just any candle. It’s special. Once
you light it you can pour the wax on Jake.”

“Won’t that hurt? And get stuck in his chest
hair?”

“That’s where the special comes in! It burns
to body temperature and soaks into the skin like massage oil. Don’t
tell him, just freak him out with it!”

Wendy laughed. “Y’all are a mess. Thank you
for the gifts. I can’t wait to shock him, delight him and scare the
hell out of him.”

They woo-hooed to that and finished off their
hurricanes.

“Let’s book it, ladies,” Kate said. “We’ve
got a reservation.”

Wendy clapped. “Reservations? Where?”

“A fancy Creole place. We’ll have to pretend
to be civilized.” Lucy laughed.

“Whatever. This is New Orleans,” Vivian said.
“Anything goes!”

T
he
maître d' of Broussard’s greeted the girls warmly and showed them
to their table. Vivian peeked into the bar as they walked by. A
baby grand sat in one corner, and the windows were open to the
courtyard.
We’ll have to stop in there later!

Their table in the main dining room was
covered in a white tablecloth and fully set. A flower in a crystal
vase and a candle completed the scene.

Vivian fiddled with her napkin. “I hope I
don’t spill anything. I tend to do that, you know.”

“You’ll be fine, quit playing with your
napkin,” Lucy said.

“It’s in the shape of a swan or something.”
Vivian giggled. “I can’t get it undone.”

Lucy took it, unfolded it and put it in her
lap. “Here, now calm down.”

Wendy looked pleased. “I’ve always wanted to
come here. I’ve walked by it so many times and thought it looked
fabulous.”

Kate sat up in her chair. “I asked around and
everyone said this was the place to go. Did you know this is a
historic building? Part of it was a prep school in the 1800s. And
the courtyard used to be the carriage house.”

“So horses used to run through here?” Vivian
asked.

“No, silly,” Kate said.

The waiter approached. “Actually, she’s
right, but they were usually walking by the time they made it back
here.”

Lucy smiled and lifted her menu. “Y’all have
done a great job cleaning up.”

The waiter asked if they had decided on a
bottle of wine or wanted something else from the bar.

Wendy held the wine list. “I think we’ll have
the Caymus Special Selection Cabernet, please.”

“Nice choice. Off menu tonight is our stuffed
mirliton with wild Louisiana shrimp and lump crabmeat.”

“I do like wild stuff,” Vivian smirked.

“What’s mirliton?” Kate asked.

“It’s also known as a mango squash or
vegetable pear. It’s a southern Louisiana favorite.”

“You lost me at squash,” Vivian said. “I’m
more of a meat eater.”

“The filet mignon is excellent, and the
redfish Broussard is one of our most popular items. It’s a filet
dusted in cornmeal, topped with shrimp, crabmeat and crawfish, and
served with an oyster mushroom étouffée.”

“Sold!” Wendy said and put down her menu.

Vivian went with the filet mignon, Lucy
ordered the swordfish Vera Cruz and Kate the mirliton special.

Dinner was superb and as they shared the
Crepes Broussard for dessert, an elegant woman in her ’50s
approached.

“Good evening, ladies, I’m Evelyn. What are
you celebrating?”

Wendy held up her tacky sash. “Bachelorette
party. I’m getting married in a few weeks.”

“Congratulations. Thank you for celebrating
with us. I’d like to offer you a bottle of champagne.” She signaled
the waiter, who arrived with a bottle of bubbly and four
flutes.

The girls cheered as he popped the cork and
poured.

“Would you like to join us?” Kate asked.

“Oh no, thank you. I have a lot to do around
here. You ladies have a fun night. I hope to see you again
sometime.”

“Thank you!” Wendy said, holding up her
champagne flute. “We will most definitely be back!”

Evelyn walked off and Lucy said to Wendy, “So
how are the wedding plans coming along? Your invitations were
beautiful, by the way.”

Wendy smiled. “Thanks, and yes, everything is
planned and pretty well wrapped up.”

“Who’s your maid of honor?” Vivian asked.

Lucy looked perplexed. “It isn’t you?”

Vivian waved her hand. “Nah, I opted out. I’m
300 miles away and busy with four kids.”

“All of you live out of town and I didn’t
want to burden y’all with trekking to Houston to help me plan and
pick stuff out,” Wendy explained. “Ali’s my maid of honor. She and
I have saved each other from annoying men, supported each other
with good ones, and laughed at the dumb ones. And she’s lots of
fun. My cousin, soon-to-be sister in-law and old friend, Silly
Sally, are my other bridesmaids.”

Kate held up her glass in a toast. “It’s
going to be a beautiful wedding and I’m so excited for you!”

The girls cheersed, then Vivian said, “Let’s
take this party to the bar!” She snagged the champagne bottle and
danced her way through the dining room, directly to the baby grand.
A gentleman in his ’60s played Fats Domino’s “Blueberry Hill.”

Toward the bottom of the champagne bottle
Vivian pulled out the penis whistle. “I think we need to jazz this
song up.”

She started blowin’ and goin’, the
accompaniment to “Tutti Frutti.”

Kate pulled out her camera and took some
video. “She’s going to regret this someday, but for now it’s
fantastic!”

They sang and blew along for several songs,
joining other patrons for a spin on a makeshift dance floor in
front of the piano. Evelyn sang along with Tom, the piano player,
to “What a Wonderful World,” and Vivian took a break on the
whistle.

They clapped when the song was over, then
Wendy said, “Let’s hit Razzoo’s before we go to Daisy’s show!”

“Woo-hoo!” the rest of the girls chimed.

They said goodbye to Evelyn and Tom and
wandered out to Bourbon. The crowd had grown in the last couple of
hours, and the girls just jumped right in. They went with the flow
up Bourbon a few blocks until the crowd almost stopped where guys
were throwing beads from a balcony.

Vivian blew on the penis whistle to get their
attention, but they didn’t throw any her way. “Here,” she said and
shoved the whistle at Wendy. “You try, and get up there with your
sash!”

Wendy took the whistle and wiped off Vivian’s
lipstick before putting it in her mouth. She gave it a shrill blow
and got closer to the balcony. One of the guys threw down a long
strand of pearly beads and she caught them. She waved and tooted on
the whistle before joining the girls. “These are great! Quite the
throw!”

Kate admired the beads, then said, “You know,
that whistle could come in really handy if one of us gets lost in
this crowd.”

Lucy picked up her new Shoe-Be-Do high heels.
“Or if one of us goes down.”

“Woman down! Woman down!” Vivian shouted.

Wendy blew the whistle and led the way
through the crowd. A block later, another group of people on a
balcony threw beads into the crowd. Vivian looked up to catch a
strand and stumbled on the uneven cobblestones. She couldn’t get
her footing and went down, smack, on her hands and knees, right in
the middle of Bourbon Street.

Lucy and Kate shouted, “Woman down!” several
times and Wendy blew the whistle.

Beads showered them from every angle,
especially hitting Vivian, who was laughing and unable to get up
because of it. A strand of Jamaican bobsled beads hit her on the
side of the face and neck. A guy next to her picked up the beads
and grabbed her by the elbow, helping her to her feet.

“You deserve these,” he said, draping them
around her neck.

Wendy checked Vivian over for blood or
serious damage, but Vivian waved her off. “I’m fine, hardly even
scratched my knees. I’d like to wash my hands, though!”

Wendy pulled a packet of hand wipes out of
her purse and waved it in front of her. “Who’s your girl?”

“You are!” She grabbed the wipe and cleaned
up.

They made it to Razzoo’s without further
incident and bellied up to the bar, ordering a round of drinks. The
bartender set down nine Bud Lights and a large cup of Lucy’s vodka
and tonic. “Three-for-one,” he said when the girls looked at him
like he was hard of hearing because they’d ordered three beers
total.

“Can you keep these on ice for us?” Wendy
asked, slapping down a 20.

“You can.” He pulled out a bucket and filled
it full of ice.

Wendy expertly maneuvered the extra beers
into the bucket, then it set on a table near the railing. They
watched some crappy dancing on stage and listened to some bad
karaoke. After a few minutes they went outside to the courtyard.
The guy from the night before, in the giant foam cowboy hat, was
out there with his friends. He saw the girls through his sunglasses
and made a beeline for Wendy. Before she could escape, he leaned
her back and planted another one on her.

She laughed and shoved him off, so he reached
for Lucy and leaned her back for his version of a gallant kiss.
Lucy went with it for quite a while, until he finally set her
upright. Foam Hat looked over the top of his sunglasses at her and
wiggled his eyebrows before returning to his buddies.

Vivian cheersed Lucy. “Enjoyed that, did
ya?”

Lucy grinned. “He is the funniest guy,
wearing that hat and sunglasses at night. Not to mention, he’s a
damn good kisser.”

“Uh huh,” Kate said and Wendy laughed.
Karaoke hour over, they made their way to the dance floor for a few
songs and finished off their bucket before hitting the street
again. They weaved through the crowd, making their way toward
Canal.

Kate hailed a cab and Vivian jumped in the
front as the other girls piled into the back.

“Where are you girls headed tonight?” the
cabbie asked.

“French House Cabaret, please!”

T
he
cabbie drove through the warehouse district and dropped the girls
off under the porte cochere at the French House. They gave the
doorman their names and said they were guests of Al’s. He motioned
for a bouncer, who whisked them to a table front and center of the
stage.

Al, Adrienne and Jason were already there and
watching the pre-show entertainment. The girls sat down after a
round of hellos and hugs, then Al did his usual — ordered a bottle
of bubbly, from a waitress wearing a black, strapless spandex
bodysuit that stopped just below her ass.

“That looks more like something you’d wear in
the bedroom than in public,” Kate said.

“I own something like that!” Vivian laughed.
She soaked in the scene, which was different from what she’d
expected. It was an upscale club and had several stages with poles.
The tables were draped in black with small brass lamps in the
center. Almost every table was occupied, some with couples, and the
bar area was packed full of men, many of them watching one of the
numerous big screens broadcasting March Madness.