re: #154 thedopefishlives

How I came to know and appreciate Street Hurricanes
by “How did I manage to make it this far?”

Glen Campbell was Bacchus in 1974 when me and a few friends took the train out of Philly and went to New Orleans. We got there on Monday the week before Mardi Gras.
Slept in Tulane Stadium one night. Stayed at a transient hotel that was a palmetto bug and roach palace. Walked throughout the French and Spanish quarter. Went everywhere. Walked in and through every open door we could find.
Went into Pat O’Brien’s one night, that of the famous flaming fountains, before the crowds came.
Hung out with the biggest bouncer that I have ever seen to this day. Everything on him was a weapon. Had rings on every finger that were just as effective as brass knuckles.
Knives in every pocket and both boots. Had a cane that had a 2 pound chrome eagle on it.
Yep. The cane itself was a sheath for a blade. Custom made. Damascus steel.
Had to be 6’8”. Limped. Showed us his scars. From knives, machetes and gunshots.
He had zippers up and down his arms. The chains around his neck probably weighed 10 pounds. Would not want to be on the receiving end of him.
Then…
The hotel we could afford was being “repaired” and the guy I hooked up with to book that flop was the one friend of my friend I took the train with. We all got lost. Wound up finding each other later. Roll the drunks from the door and stairs to get in. Lost souls in the TV room staring at test patterns.
But we never saw palmetto bugs. Never heard about them. They were roaches to us. So he was down the hall and started screaming about “the fucking size of this fucking roach!”
I went and up on the crown molding under the ceiling there were two HUGE antenna over the edge.
He found a piece of furring strip, and knocked it down and killed it, but didn’t smash it.
We never saw a roach that big.
Then he picks it up by the antenna and walks down to the night desk and hammers the bell on the desk.
DING DING DING DING
The old woman, night shift, a drunk, and no teeth, and a wreck came out screaming “WHAT WHAT WHAT THE HELL..”
And with the most calm voice and straight face he says;
“I regret to inform you one of your patrons has passed away”.
“WHAT??!??”
“One of your guests has died.”
“OH MY GOD WHERE AND WHO AND..’
And he dropped that palmetto bug on her desk, and it was just under 5 inches long.
PLOP.
She chased him out into the street with an axe handle.
I was on the floor crying.
That is why we drank Street Hurricanes.