Shakin' it with the Kid in the French Quarter.

Went out with the Kid, last night, got tanked, and a good time was had by all.

"The Kid" is my sister, for those who don't know. Been calling her that for most of her life and even though she has one of her own now, an adorable imp named Lucy, the name still sticks.

We started where she tends bar, "The French Quarter," figuring we could get a few cheap drinks in us, mix with her coworkers and head out. And... we never left.

Turns out they had the biggest crowd for a Thursday since opening, and of course, the least experienced bartender to stem the tide. The Kid and Amy (her busty, blonde, birthday-girl boss) came to the rescue while I sat back, took in the scene, and did my fair share of shots:

Numbered among these were Mind Erasers, Lunch Boxes and Tuaca Lemon Drops. If you've never had a Tuaca Lemon Drop, imagine a caramel-filled lemon, soaked in alcohol, and you pretty much get the idea.

After an initial rush, the crowd thinned and we were finally able to get down to business - good ol' fashioned drinkin' -and- booty shakin'!


The music was a bit... flaccid but the overall vibe was cool, with an interesting mix of folk: black, white, breeders, gay men (closeted and otherwise), fag-hags, lesbians (with a friendly bull-dyke thrown in for good measure) and all points in-between.

Plus the music got better as the night wore on. Whether this was due to our suggestions or a steady influx of alcohol on our parts is debatable.

They did play House of Pain's "Jump Around," which was a good thing.

After all, I came to get down.