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NOLAFugees Society Columnist Cookie spends a week among the Irish.
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Me see where Chris Rose now get $25 a head for CAC performance. For that money Me can see Floetry at House of Blues. Me get same amount of middle-class social edification, plus Me get to hang with lesbian Negress bitches. Better deal all around.
But maybe Me should not complain. Look at spiffy new web design of NOLAFugees. editors looking to raise profile, which is why they send me out for local St. Patrick’s celebrations. Great promotion. Me sure to linger in memory of Jameson-soaked Micks long after hangover wear off.
On me way down to Parasol’s for pre-parade drunk fest Me run into CEO and mayoral candidate Ron Forman. Me talk property taxes with Ron. Me like what Me hear. Me say Ron Forman a bargain on Jack Moss’ betting line. Me not give shit what NOLAFugees editors say. Me going heavy for Forman. Me hope early endorsement get me into homes of society bitches.
Later during parade Me run into Channel 6 anchor Roop Raj on Magazine Street. We reminisce about early post-Katrina days. Details hazy, but Roop jog memory…breaking curfew at Molly’s…boozy scene…pills…CNN’s Jeanne Meserve crawling under barstool looking for blouse button…Roop trying to insinuate between me and Helena Moreno…Me telling Roop me and Helena go back to her Savannah days when we share many midnights in Garden of Good and Evil, but now we just friends…Roop full of Guinness muscles, wanting to take me on…Me full of bluster as well, saying regrettable things…Me telling Roop Me have tech support question…Me telling Roop Me have credit card billing dispute…Me telling Roop Me glad he Catholic and that why Me vote for him over bitch Blanco…Roop not taking hint…Roop raising pint glass over head…
It good thing Shepard Smith walk in and offer to buy round on Fox News account to calm everyone down.
Talking to Roop at St. Patrick’s parade, it all seem so long ago. It water under bridge. Me value Roop’s forgiveness. Me offer to buy Roop drink in new bar on Magazine, Alexander’s. Me tell Roop Me meet him back on corner, but service at Alexander’s suck ass. Me stand with $20 in mouth for 30 goddamn minutes. Me try to be polite. Me not point out that This Only Fucking Day Of Year Your Place Ever Do Business Worth A Shit. Me keep smile and patience, but fuckers ignore me until me finally give up. When Me get back to corner Roop gone. Roop, if you reading this, Me not stand you up.
Fuck it all to hell. Look what shitty bar service reduce me to. Groveling before local anchors. Alexander’s Food and Spirits dead to me.
Nostalgia for Molly’s lead me downtown. Me sloppy at this point. Editors tell me parades not on same day, but looking back it all seem like endless surge of desperate longing. Me have vague memory of discussing stomach tattoos with Jude Matthews, son of old friend Bunny Matthews. Me inquire about Bunny. We not hang since he cut me out of original Vic and Nat’ly concept. (Me barred by lawyers from discussing further.)
Seeing Jude grown up make me weepy for lost youth. Me suckle on breast of bitch acquaintance. Me remember being moved to song and to more booze. Somehow Me get home. Me must have been guided by Mick spirits.
Cookie covers the goings-on-about-town for NOLAFugees.com.
