You know how people talk about getting a chance to “sew
their oats”? Well anyone that knows me knows I have done my fair share of oat
sewing – I have pretty much covered all the bases starting at a pretty young
age. I am currently on a flight to New
Orleans for the United Federation of Doll Clubs National Convention. It’s the
biggest doll event of the year and we really look forward to and plan it for
basically the entire year before it happens. We go to primarily sell and make
some money but also to buy and network. It’s fun to see my digital customers in
person and see other parts of the country because it’s in a different spot each
year.
Anyway, back to sewing my oats. Last time I was in New
Orleans for a National Convention, I was 17. I came with the Turn of the
Century Antiques staff and also our super smokin’ hot resident shop gay man
cake, Kenny. He was my partner in crime. We went out, went to the gym together,
and basically everyone thought we were the most beautiful couple they had ever
seen. Here is Kenny and I at a convention in Denver a couple years ago.
The first couple nights, we went and cruised the French
Quarter – had a couple drinks – kind of took it easy but had a good time. There
was a tram that ran from the hotel to the French Quarter every half hour and
the last one left at 2 am.
I remember it was a Thursday – later in the convention week
and we got a group of cute guys from the convention together and we cruised
some of the gay bars. I wasn’t even looked at twice when going in because my
presentation even at 17 made me seem like I was in my 20’s and when surrounded
by cute gay men, the doormen let me in the bars with no problem. The last bar
we ended up at was my Eden. Right when we stepped in, it was a complete shit
show. There were strippers in cages, men dancing on the bar, strobe lights,
music, balls out, drinks everywhere. It was amazing. Everyone was so nice and
because I was a woman, I didn’t have to worry about being hit on and could just
have fun. I talked fashion, life, gossiped, drank, danced on the bar, stuck
money in the strippers G-strings. It was awesome. It really was one of the most
fun nights of my entire life.
Kenny didn’t bring his phone and mine died so we really
didn’t know what time it was later on in the night but because the party was
still in a full on rage, I figured it was around 1am or so. I remember going to
Kenny and saying we should go because we needed to grab the last tram back to
the hotel which was at 2 am and we had
to open the doll booth at 9:30. So covered in mardi gras beads, margaritas
spilled down the front of our shirts, hair that looked like a bulldozer was
needed to tame it – we stumbled out of the bar on our quest to get home and get
ready for the final day of the convention. I remember I completely looked like a drowned
rat.
As soon as we stepped out of the bar, the sun blinded us. I
was shocked and felt like I was in another universe. What the hell? The sun
wasn’t just coming up, it was UP. I asked a passerby in a suit walking intently
with his Starbucks what time it was. “9AM”.
It was NINE IN THE MORNING. Talk about the party never
stopping. It was worse than Vegas! I was immediately in a panic because I told
my mother I would be home by 2 and my Mom is a complete worry wart. We tumbled
into the hotel room and I will never forget it. My poor mother was sitting on
the side of the bed on the phone - she had called the police but they wouldn’t
start a report unless the person had been missing something like 2 days. I
really did feel bad about that stunt. Even to this day, when I bring up New
Orleans, my Mom’s whole demeanor changes and I still joke about it but she
won’t. She never got over that one – but I also never pulled a stunt like that
since. Generally when I don’t come home,
I know about it ahead of time or I would at least have the concierge let Mom
know.
That night will
forever go down as one of those epic nights that I will always remember and
that you can’t replicate. We are
starting our descent into New Orleans and I am going to use this as my big
chance to make it up to her so she can have a new memory of Convention in New
Orleans. Instead of throwing down in bars, I think I will throw down in the salesroom
and gym this week and be enjoying Starbucks Americanos as my strong drink
over triple vodka sodas. Hopefully. ;)
XO,
Rachel
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