Thursday morning, 12:30 AM, Bourbon Street. CEO’s brain: Oh shit what the hell am I doing here? How is it that me and a bunch of guys I only sorta know through work are walking down a street full of only bars and strip clubs? Wait, what, I’m carrying a mixed drink? Where’d that come from? Why do all the girls waving at us look so naughty? The guys I’m with all seem pretty drunk; am I that drunk? Brief stop for a self assessment. Oh fuck. It was downhill from there (absinthe and a Def Leppard cover band still awaited us that evening) but I managed eventually to get back to the hotel and was functional for the 10:00 meeting the next day. Not optimal, but functional.
Friday morning, very early. Repeat. House of Blues and whatever bars are between them and the W Hotel in N.O. Apparently late in the evening I tipped a bartender $20 because I thought he made a fine gin and tonic. It was that kind of night.
It was a productive trip but I, my family, and whats left of my liver are thankful that the CEO is now home.
