In the evening, Terry and I ventured out into the madness of Bourbon Street. I thought this place was only packed at Mardi Gras time but the craziness seems to happen every night of the week. Terry had on a nice dress and was carrying a beer in a paper cup. Some guy walked right into her and spilled her drink down the front of her dress. She screamed at him and threw the remaining beer at his back. We lowered our shoulders and stuck out our elbows whenever someone stumbled into us. Women with big butts jiggled them in open doorways inviting people in to see the live sex acts. People were tossing bead necklaces down from balconies to people who flashed some skin.
Terry knew where she wanted to go. She was looking for the one bar that played traditional Cajun music on Bourbon Street. In every bar there seemed to be live music. Cars crossing would have to crawl through the never ending crowd. We finally found the Bayou Club and were lucky enough to find a table right up front. The band, T’ Canaille, was doing its sound check. The accordion player went up to the bar and had several shots to warm up. I sketched quickly through the first set. People in the audience were invited to stand in front of the band and play the washboard with spoons. Unfortunately people who went up were either drunk or they had no sense of rhythm.
When the second set started, Terry turned to me and said, “Lets dance.” We danced on the tiny dance floor with several other couples until we were exhausted. Back on the street, I felt practiced now as we navigated the throngs. It was easier to dance through the insanity than to fight our way through the crowd.