Tuesday, July 12, 2005

New Orleans Postcript

I'm back from my trip to New Orleans. Here's the play-by-play:

The big weekend started off with a bang when I arrived at the airport two hours early for my flight. When you fly Southwest you have to get there early if you want a good seat, otherwise you're stuck on the wing. (Literally on the wing. They strap you on with a huge bungee cord.) I arrived secure that I would get a great seat only to realize that I had forgot to go online and get a boarding pass. So, two hours early and I still got a "B" pass. Amazingly, I managed to get the seat behind the exit row that doesn't actually have another seat in front of it. I plop down my 6'1'' self into the chair, stretch out my legs and commence a spontaneous orgasm.

I arrived in New Orleans and Don "the Mon" was waiting for me at the airport. Immediately, he set the tone for the entire weekend when he said, "My air-conditioner in my car broke on the way here." Driving around New Orleans in July without air-conditioning is like driving through boiling chicken fat, only it smells worse. To top the reunion off, Don forgot where he parked the car. Let me tell you, nothing puts you in the vacation mood faster than a dragging your luggage around a parking garage for 30 minutes. Did I mention the boiling chicken fat? Good.

When we arrived at the Hotel Crackhouse to check in we were told that we didn't have a reservation. No, wait, we did have a reservation, only it was for last weekend. Luckily, there were still some rooms available because the police forensics team was finally done on the fifth floor. The manager then ran into a snag. It seems that my credit card had already been charged for the full-stay for last weekend because it was a special festival weekend (crystal-meth convention) and he couldn't transfer the payment to this weekend. He could give us a room but I would have to talk to a different person in the morning. (I would eventually spend four days trying to talk to the person who could fix this problem, finally getting it straightened out on Monday when I checked out.)

Oh, I should also mention that Hurricane Dennis drove straight up the Gulf on Sunday and forced me to stay an extra day...

While playing cards Sunday night I was chatting with a young guy sitting next to me. While complaining about his wife's driving he said, "She's crazy. She uses the car to make a point. Sometimes she makes O-turns. She'll be in the middle of a U-turn and change her mind."

Poker was good, great action and I won a little money. Unfortunately, I left on a sour note when the last hand I played went very bad. I made a flush on the last card to beat the guy sitting on my left. When I rolled my cards over, one of them caught a corner, snapped and bounced off the table. The dealer grabbed it and put it back up and everyone could see I had the flush but that didn't matter..... a card on the floor means a dead hand. So, they pushed the pot to the guy on my left after calling over a floorman. Now, through all of this, I never said a word, just sat and waited for the decision. Everything was fine until the guy on my left started stacking my chips:
"Sorry about that," He said.
"No, you're not" I said.
"I'm sorry that happened to you"
"No disrespect, but you're not sorry. You're getting my money."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm getting it this way."
"No, you're not. If you were really sorry, you'd give me that pot. You know that's not your pot but you're taking it anyway so don't try and tell me you feel bad about it. If the situation were reversed I would push you the pot." And I got up, cashed out and went to the airport.

I thought about the whole episode on the plane ride home and the truth is I wasn't mad that the guy didn't give me the pot. What pissed me off was that he took the money, felt guilty about it and tried to make himself feel better by telling me how sorry he was. Just because something isn't your fault doesn't mean it's okay. Every day you have to make decisions about whether or not to do the right thing. If you choose to benefit from someone else's misfortune, that's your business, but don't try to justify it or act like you're an unwilling participant. Just shut-up and stack my chips cock-bite.

All things considered it was a good trip but from now on I'm just gonna bite the bullet and pay for a nice hotel. Life is too short to have a vomit-stain on your carpet.

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