May 28, 2013
We arrived in New Orleans late Saturday night. We were all exhausted because we skipped over Alabama and Mississippi and went straight to Louisiana. So the drive was a total of 13 hours which included two long stops and several small ones. We went straight to the hotel, Bienville House which would probably be our most expensive accommodations for the trip. Pure luxury though, right in the French Quarter, and it wasn’t really that bad at $139 per night. Though there were no festivals going on that we could tell during the time that we were there. We arrived about 10pm so after check in, Patrick and Pete went out to a bar, I told them I didn’t mind. I told Hasty to join them if she wanted, but she wanted them to have time alone and didn’t want to leave me alone. I was trying to force her because I know Hasty probably would have loved to go to a gay bar in New Orleans, but she stuck with me.
I was pretty tired though and didn’t want to even walk around because I knew I’d want to drink since it was a Saturday night in New Orleans and nice and sticky hot, a good night for drinking. She lied on the bed next to me and we watched tv and talked. She tried to charm some personal thoughts and feelings out of me, but I was too vague for her so she whacked me with a pillow and said for me to just open up. And I thought I confessed so much.
Anyway, that night we all stayed in the same room, with the intentions to go into two separate rooms for the next night or two. Pete and Patrick returned after Hasty and I had fallen asleep. We were on the same bed, not in an inappropriate way because I know she’s married. We were on the covers and just ended up crashing while watching tv. I bored the poor girl, I mean she could have been out having a great time on a Saturday night in New Orleans. So I guess Patrick and Pete slept in the other bed. Then Sunday, we got separate rooms, which we agreed about ahead of time, because Pete and Patrick wanted their own room. They just wanted to be able to relax and be themselves, especially Pete who was just kind of getting to know himself as a gay man. The hotel was gay friendly, so they felt pretty free.
Hasty and I had our own room, separate beds. It was really hard to be in New Orleans. I’d been there before, I associate it with debauchery, mostly from lots of drinking and drugging. I didn’t really want to leave the room much, so I was kind of lame. I was going through a thing. I liked walking around the streets and going to the cemeteries and the Voodoo shops, the Audubon park. The cemeteries were my favorite places. So many ghosts. I felt like they were going inside my body. I felt sometimes like they wanted to hate me, but they saw something inside me so they tolerated me. One spirit I swear was trying to beat me up. Another one was in love with me and molesting me. I don’t know, I’m just kind of sensitive to the spirit world, maybe not many other people would pick up on them. The lady at the Voodoo shop told me I had a spiritual hitchhiker and she gave me a mojo so it wouldn’t follow me out of the city. She didn’t even ask for money, she said just to take it, carry it with me at all times, and once I’m out of the city, I can throw it into the next body of water I see, if I am unable to do that I can flush it down the toilet, since the mojo was small enough. She said burying it or burning it would make this particular entity stronger, so it had to be water. So yeah, leave it to me to pick up a succubus in New Orleans. Other than those kind of places, I didn’t even go out to eat much, because of the alcohol. I was left alone for a few hours one day because I insisted that they didn’t have to keep babysitting me.
I wanted to be sure that my friends had the best time they possibly could. They went out and I spent time in the cemetery. That’s when I picked up the hitchhiker. The mojo lady said the female spirit was drawn to my sadness. Hasty pointed her finger at me and said, “I knew you were sad.” I said, no I’m fine, not sad. The mojo lady said no, I have deep pain and the spirit is drawn to it. And her presence around me will bring me deeper into sadness and she will grow stronger from that. Funny thing is, that made sense, especially since after she gave me the mojo, I’ve been feeling a little better. So last night, I brought her a rose to thank her and she smiled. She was pretty when she smiled, kind of harsh looking otherwise. But she smiled and her eyes lit up and she warmed. She was cool.
While I was sitting in the cemetery, I wrote some poetry, that I don’t want to include in this journal, especially since I ripped it up. I also wanted to text with Emma or call her but instead I texted Snow White. I thought of all these things to say, but they were stupid and shit she probably heard before. I wanted to be different than the rest of the guys. So I figured the one thing that would make me stand out was sensitivity. So I txtd, “Hey, i hope you had a good time at universal w/us”
Five minutes later, I was txtd “Hi grimm do u know who this is?”
I txtd back “Hey snow white”
“lol no 1s ever called me that b4″
Then I noticed the number was not Snow White’s. “Who is this?”
“Ohhh i thought u were someone else”
“lol i wanted to ty again for helping me out”
“Im not used to ppl helping like that especially strangers”
“Well that guy was a d**k”
“Am i bothering u?”
“Nope, how u doin?”
“Not bad was just thinking about u wanted to ty again”
“Doin ok? need help?”
“Ur sweet no im good ty….again”
“Im in new orleans”
“Wow im jealous lol”
“Yeah its beautiful i like the iron gatings and spanish moss and cobblestone and ghosts”
“Idk just was thinking about u”
“Hmm ur easier to talk to in person lol”
“Yeah i dont txt too much”
“I think I need to see ur face for a convo”
“I know what u mean”
I’m actually copying this conversation from my phone into my journal, then I’ll delete it. I don’t txt too much and after a conversation I always delete it. I don’t know why, just do. But there was a long pause, I think she was waiting for me to respond, but I guess I’m not good at txting because I always leave people confused. Then she finally txtd.
“k ill let u go now”
I like when people send the smiley at the end, then I know the conversation is officially over. I wish I could help her, I feel badly about her situation. Later Snow White txtd me back apparently and I didn’t hear it, but I see it now as I’m documenting my conversation with Vanilla K. So I’ll have to get back to her once we’re on the road today. We’re packing up and heading to Houston. I hope my friends had a good time even though I wasn’t the most pleasant to be around. I mean, I was just quiet I guess. And they were all looking at me with compassionate eyes, so that kind of puts me off and makes me more aloof because I hate when people feel bad for me.
previous Grimm Road Trip 4: Grimm and Snow White http://wp.me/p41c99-f2
next Grimm Road Trip 6: Houston part 1, The Stun Gun http://wp.me/p41c99-g0
For a chronological list of links to all the journal entries, refer to the Journal Entries Index Page http://wp.me/P41c99-J
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Patrick is based on himself at http://phintly.wordpress.com/ and Hasty is based on herself from http://hastywords.wordpress.com/ Vanilla K is loosely based on reality. She is a character by Kira at http://writingsnapshots.com/ and featured on “The MisAdventures of Vanilla K” http://vanillak.wordpress.com/ Her account of their texting: http://themisadventuresofvanilla.com/2013/05/29/vanilla-cybercafe-the-rcc-and-grimm/