My Trip to New Orleans: An Epic in Four Parts

Disclaimer: Any inaccuracies in this narrative are a direct result of the permanent brain damage incurred by the author during this trip. Any that are brought to my attention will be corrected.

Part 1 of 4

In 2007 I took a little trip,
Along with my buddy Sarge down the mighty Mississip,
Our minds were sharp, our thoughts were clear, our clothes were crisp and clean,
Headed to the Dirty Dirty, to check out New Orleans.

(Note: due to popular demand, Angel will henceforth be known as Booze Zombie...he earned it)

Day 1
The following takes place between 3pm and 6ish am

I planned a trip to New Orleans a couple months back after Booze Zombie moved back down there. I wanted to go see him, and I wanted to test myself against the best when it comes to drinking. I'll be honest, I talked a lot of shit before going down, I figured hey, drinking is drinking. Oh boy.
I talked Sarge into going along with me even though I think deep down he knew that he'd spend a lot of this trip looking on in horror at various things that I was enthusiastically participating in. In the end, I don't think I disappointed him. Our flight left Boston at 6. I got us bumped to first class, which was totally pimp because they give you free booze, and I figured that we could easily drink the cost of the upgrade, and thus make it a break even proposition. Our target was $150 in 3.5 hours, with the big disclaimer being that we couldn't get kicked off of the airplane, in my case a very real possibility. I figured as long as we could get to Philly and switch planes, we'd be all set. And if there was some sort of maximum drink limit, we'd have two shots at hitting it, with the two planes and all.
After two big vodka tonics at Legal Seafood at the airport, we board. I sit down and I notice two things. One, nothing pointy is driving itself into my kneecaps. No wonder people pay more to sit up here. Two, there's already a drink in front of me. There's still people boarding the airplane and Sarge and I are toasting success with screwdrivers. I'm never going back behind that curtain again.
We end up sitting on the tarmac at Logan for 40 minutes because Philly airport sucks balls. To make things go better they start serving the drinks two at a time and let us take turns giving surprise electric shocks to people in coach. I never knew the seats were wired like that. Anyway, the magic formula is one can of OJ, two nips of Finlandia. If I could smoke in here, I'd never leave. After we take off, we hit turbulence and the stewardess (that's what you are, deal with it) announces that they can't safely bring the drink cart out to coach and sell half cans of soda for 5 dollars each. She sets the mic down and brings Sarge and I two more screwdrivers each. I'm enjoying it but my head is filled with violent Bolshevik revolution. It isn't right how they treat the peasants up here. I realize they heavily outnumber us and I wish that curtain were a door.
We land in Philly 40 minutes late and we get to do some running. Full speed, shitfaced running. Sarge falls back but I keep going. Must make plane. Airports run on Lord of the Flies rules. Sarge catches up as we make the gate, inevitably on the complete other side of the airport.
Sarge: Dude, some lady stepped right in front of me when we were running, I knocked the bag right out of her hands.
Me: Nice! Please tell me you just kept going.
Sarge: Fucking right I did, every man for himself when you have a plane to catch.
We laugh.
The sign at the gate says some other flight. Between breaths I ask if we missed the New Orleans flight. Old Bored Guy informs me that they're just boarding now because every single plane in Philly was delayed for 40 minutes. Remember this because it's important. I hand him my ticket.
OBG: Just wait here sir...
He ignores me and checks other people in.
Me: Is there a problem?
OBG: I don't know, I have to confirm this...
He continues to check people in and ignore me. I use some of my drunken charm and interrupt his conversation with another passenger.
Me: What's going on here?...
After this I get into a row with some FNG who doesn't speak the English, and then the Bitchy Boss Lady who tells me that since my inbound was delayed, I've been bumped and will have to fly out tomorrow.
Me: Wait, the outbound that I'm holding a ticket for is right here, in this airport. I am also here in this airport. I am holding a first class ticket for this plane? What exactly is the issue here?
BBL: Well if this plane had taken off, you wouldn't have been on it.
Me: That's your argument? Jesus Christ that's not even trying. It doesn't even make sense. If the goddamn plane had crashed, we'd all be dead...but we're not.
I have no idea how, but this shouting match ended in Sarge and I sitting in first class and some other suckers getting bumped. I'm so glad I'm not middle eastern...I'd be in Federal Prison for yelling like that at an airport.
At some point during this Sarge called Booze Zombie and said that I got arrested, I did not know this.
We land in NOLA. Between us we put away 22 screwdrivers in something like 6 hours. I think that covered our upgrade fee. Sarge puked on the airplane. I told him that was a division of the Mile High Club. He was understandably proud.
BZ and his roomate, Messin With Sasquatch, pick us up outside. We head back to town. MWS is driving, she tells me there's an ice cold bottle of Stoli Raz under her seat. I grab it, and it is ice cold. I take a slug and hand Sarge the bottle. He takes a swig and immediately pukes. Pretty much all of it went out the window. Pussy, and to think we'd been training for this for a solid month.
MWS: So are you the guy who got arrested?
Me: No...(I'm confused)
BZ: Yeah you did, Sarge told me.
Me: Goddamnit you people are fucking with me.
We go into town and go directly to a bar. It's now about midnight on a Thursday, and the place is pretty crowded by my personal Thursday standards. I order vodka Red Bull, and the bartender hands me what seems like a slurpee cup from 711. I watched him make it. It was seriously half a bottle of Stoli and 2 Red Bulls. I'm a little concerned, because I'm already tanked and at this point I realize that this town is fucking serious about drinking.
We meet some more of BZ and MWS's friends at the bar. Seriously at least 5 people ask me how I got arrested. What the fuck??? I didn't get arrested. Finally Sarge explains that he told BZ that I got arrested, and of course BZ called at least everyone he knew and told them. Word travels quick.
After this we may have gone to another place that had live music, or we may have gone back to the apartment. Scene missing. Later on that night we went out to McDonalds. We picked up a kid by the name of Meerkat (this will make sense in Day 4's writeup). I introduce myself. He introduces himself. He sells me some pot. I love this town. We get to talking and he's a solid dude. We smoke a bowl waiting in the drivethru line. We wind up back at the apartment and smoke more.
MWS: There's no way I'm going to work tomorrow. I have to stay up so I can call in at 8.
Oh man.
MWS: Let's go to a bar.
I can't remember exactly, but this was something like 530 or 6 am. I realize I'm in way over my head here. They go and I pass out. I decide I don't have to win, but I gotta go the distance. Just go the distance.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

-LFODD