You have to listen to the song to get in the right mood for this. I was living a slave quarter room in the French Quarter (the one with the bathroom in the main house, so I had to carry my towel etc across the courtyard to take a shower). I was twenty-one, drinking like a fish. There were a group of us that would bar hop and Mexico Mike (who had a different name back then) was the talker and he would just pick up stray people and they would join our group. We drank a lot of pitchers of beer, because that was cheapest way to go. And sometimes you could get other people to pay. We hooked up with a guy that was a nephew of the JAX brewery family and he had good weed and so we all went to his place. A nice apartment actually. It became apparent later he was just hitting on the guys. Anyway after hours of drinking beer, we smoked this stuff and I hankered down in the corner. (I was working as a printer's devil in those days and the nature of the job gave me really strong legs and knees. I could hop-frog a city block. I could hold my feet off the ground by balancing my elbows on my knees). The rising sun came up. Everyone that was still there was passed out on the floor. And I had slept the whole night in my corner like a good bullfrog. It was a little hard to straighten up.
No comments:
Post a Comment