Anyway, yes, I was part of what turned out to be a tourist attraction last night--something that seemed to give the people on the streets that "Yes! I know I'm in New Orleans!" feeling. There is this weekly bike ride around some area of town: you start out at a bar, end at a bar, and, because they allow to-go drinks in nola, typically some drinking in the saddle too; there's also a new theme every week. Last night we covered our bicycles with balloons and rode around the French Quarter and CBD. I don't know how many people there were--forty? But I suppose the combination of decked out bikes (some people didn't just have balloons--they've decorated their bikes New Orleans-style with sequins, beads, fringe, seashells...); blinky lights; several radios blaring music--I heard a lot of Queen!; whistling and a lot of "Happy Thursday!" wishes, made people stop, stare, smile, snap pictures...people were lined up on the street watching us like we were a parade. It was fun. I tried to take some photos myself, but with the riding, the dark and my awful phone camera, this was the best I could come up with.
Here is one of the streets where people were lined up watching--I know you can't tell, but they're there on the left.
This last one was just a place where we stopped for a break--it was on top of a parking garage (I think?) and there were all these lights on the floor changing colors.
So afterward I hung out with my roommate and some of his friends for a bit, and we ended up walking around this kind of popular street. There were a few guys sitting at typewriters who would write you a poem if you gave them some cash, so I paid one of them $5; he typed one up and signed it and lo and behold, I recognized the name--it was one of the first people I'd contacted from craigslist about an empty room in his house. I didn't end up living with them because they already had a cat or two. Apparently New Orleans is small like that. One of the girls I was with (my roommate's friends) was the one who ended up living there instead; another turned out to be someone else I'd talked to about getting an apartment; and last, my roommate works with yet another girl whom I'd been emailing and calling trying to find a place together. Did that sentence make any sense? Anyway, apparently craigslist apartment searching is a good way to get to know people in New Orleans.
Ok. Now I have to go do schoolwork.
