New Orleans: Rock Out With Your C*ck Out

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