A drinking club with a running problem

I’ve never participated in the New Orleans Red Dress run, so I decided this was the weekend to do so. The event supposedly brings out over 10,000 people. You many ask, what causes 10,000 (mostly straight) people to put on a dress in the dead of summer and, well, drink; because that is the only concept surrounding the event. It's not drag (as my friend pointed out); there is no makeup, there are no shoes, there is no “event”; just a red dress, drinking, and the occasional purse - which is needed only for utilitarian purposes. In fact, I never witnessed any running. But quiet honestly I would question anyone running drunk in New Orleans during the afternoon (not the fact they had a dress on).

As background, the Red Dress Run is apparently organized by the local Chapter of the Hash House Harriers, which dates back to colonial British times when some British officers wrote a 'constitution' for their 'group' in Kuala Lumpur. This tradition has been passed down, and now Chapters can be found all over the world; although New Orleans has seemingly the largest event. Just in case you were wondering. 

So my pre-party began around 10 (no one was sure the actual beginning time). Around noon I headed over to Washington Park in the Marginy, where the epicenter lied around Frenchman Street. This is about the time it became hot. Really hot. To the extent someone had filled their truck bed as to create a pool. A red-neck move, yes; but believe me, it was a good idea. After my Bloody Mary and a walk to the Marigny, there wasn’t an ounce of water left in my body. Dehydration was setting in fast, and the large mass of people only accelerated the issue. We didn't linger long in Washington Park, but instead headed back to the quarter where water and chairs were more easily found.

This event rivaled the likes of Mari Gras (but oddly absent of any beads whatsoever). The streets in the quarter were packed by 3:00 and didn’t let up all day/night. So I opened a bar tab... Mistake. I went to close my tab around 8:00 and was told that I already closed my tab. I was like. No, I did not. Neither had my driver’s license been returned. So if indeed my tab was closed, some random person closed my tab and acquired a credit card and diver’s license. Which I am sure they thought was awesome. I have another view. When I inquired further on what happened to my card, he got rather rude. At which point I left for a reevaluation. When I later returned, he held true to his original answer. So. The card is cancelled, I have a credit watch out, and I will dispute any charge on the card that I didn’t make. At that point in time, we will see who signed my credit card slip. My idea? It was opened this entire time. And they closed my tab after discovering it was opened. Thus still having my ID. When this happens I hope he feels bad that he not only lost my card, but was rude to me when I objected. 

 

 

Another hot weekend

I'm not sure what's up here of lately. Either Baton Rouge is truly boring, or I'm just in a New Orleans mood. Honestly, I haven't participated in actual events since my move. Which is why I decided to see what White Linen Night was all about.

I spent my Friday cleaning the house, and then afterwards purchased a new pair of shorts, which was required to attend WLN. During the process I even found a hat. I like hats.

So after an hour drive, and sweltering, ungodly heat - I made my way to Julia Street decked out in a white shirt and strutting a nice white fedora. Well, after the mile and a half walk I question the wisdom of anyone to wear white while covered in sweat. Really my annoyance was more to the fact that I got bored rather quickly. It was partly my fault. Every single one of my friends that I had planned on meeting didn't show. That's usually fine with me... I like alone time. But the only thing really going on was the art gallerias. There was one or two bands. But that was about it.

I did find it odd that I usually enjoy events like this in Baton Rouge (typically copy-cat attempts to the events such as these). But Baton Rouge is more grass roots. The art gallerias in New Orleans are on par with world famous, so it looses the Bohemia affect. That coupled with the fact their typical clientele aren't ones that pretend dress retro-white for the night; heading to Bourbon Street for a late night.

But the event does draw attention to the area, so that's cool.

The one realization (that I come to time and time again) are the many different realms of New Orleans. After I got dressed I walked to the Warehouse District, via the Quarter in my white attire. No one had dress remotely similar, and all wondering why I had chose such a misinformed outfit for the night. It was weird. The event was suppose to be large. Even after crossing Canal Street and making my way to Poydress, I was still out of place. It wasn't until I crossed Poydress when I started seeing people of my kind. Then on arrival the place was packed. 

But anyway. It was hot. And I left early for a shower and proper 'going out' dress. I then remembered another reason I like New Orleans.