Crescent City Cabaret

[Brittany]

"… whirling in an arc of sadness, I'm lost without you, I'm lost without you" quiet affirmations that existed at the pinnacle of a smooth, elongated landscape grounded only by a pointed patent leather heel.

Heads in the clouds and our hearts on our sleeves, we waited for something wonderful while chewing the fat of our fantastic futures with big mouths, large dreams and a few sticks of Wrigley's. 

We all had roles to step into- like slumber party dress up for big girls, or that night you played the part of a school girl and I, a naughty republican. We were like twins with pixie haircuts and glasses navigating and negotiating our way through a barrage of men, tables and pedestals.

Strangling in the sheets of his intoxication, our next bar fly had told a tale or two, one being about his habit of masturbating in front of his dog, stunned and feeling empathy for the animal, I replied, "I hope it's a big dog". 

It's a response I understand more now, years later, after the Joan of Arc facade fades and the soul of a failed warrior heals… 

[Gita]

I have known more than a few people who grew up in rural Mississippi and Louisiana, and as soon as they (or a friend) could drive, made the pilgrimage to the Crescent City. Giddiness, freedom, role-playing, pushing the boundaries, even playing dangerous games -- all of what you say is familiar. Only you say it best. "Strangling in the sheets of his intoxication" is brilliant.