Another Story time: Mardi Gras 1999

     I was stationed at Fort Polk, Louisiana in 1999. The previous two years we were in the field for all of Mardi Gras and this was my last chance to go before PCSing. We had a 4 day weekend pass. My friends and I had planned this out. We had the money, we had the hotels reserved, we had transportation worked out. It was on. First night we just got out and walked around the crowds. Had a few drinks and got a feel for the place. None of us has been yet. We went to bed relatively early so we could be up and doing the touristy shit during the day. The French Quarter is a beautiful place with a rich history. Worth seeing while sober and capable of appreciating it. That night we all kinda got separated in the dense crowd. We had rally points of course and eventually we all met up and started just bouncing from bar to bar. It was a good night. Many boobies were seen, many beads were tossed, and much beer was drunk. What more can a Soldier on pass ask for?

     The next night we all got separated later in the night and I lost my bearings for a bit. I continued to drink and enjoy the balcony shows. We all ended up at the rally point which was just below a tall hotel building with balconies. Many floors up there was a very attractive naked woman out on the balcony just putting on a show. The police back then were very chill. Nudity was tolerated, but public sex was definitely where they drew the line. A man came out on the balcony and he was in boxers. He was waving and doing the Vanna White thing, as if showcasing this fine woman for the masses. Fuck times were awesome back then. Then they both went back in and there was obvious disappointment from the crowd. Then they both came out naked, and he bent her over the rail and began to hit it from behind. That’s when the police began rushing into the building and within a few minutes you could see their attention was brought to the room. Then they both rushed in. Game over man, game over. I used the opportunity to drink carefree while the majority of cops were busy with the voyeur show. 

     I don’t remember exactly what happened the rest of the night because I was good and sauced, but I do remember trying to make my way back to the hotel, several blocks, on my own. I had to pass under an overpass and there were homeless people there. I pulled out my knife, flicked it open, and talked with it held parallel with my forearm. I made my way to the hotel room and everyone else was there, passed out, except my friend Jason who made it shortly after.

     The next day was our last before heading back the next morning. We ate and did more day tourism stuff, then ate and prepared for the final night. I bought a T-shirt on Bourbon street that said “party like it’s 1999” riffing on the Prince song which was playing everywhere that night. We ended up running into our Lieutenant(FDO). He was from a nearby town so he decided to come down for a night and get fucked up, then sleep at his parents place. Once we saw each other, we formed a chain, hand to shoulder, and he led us through the streets. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but looking back we probably looked like idiots. The FDO had a plan. There was this drag show bar called “Boys Will Be Girls” and the sign was clear as day. Definitely not false advertising. The FDO led us into this bar thinking it would be funny. All of us saw the sign and knew what was up except my buddy Ryan. Ryan had no idea. 

     We sat at tables, since the place was basically empty, and ordered our drinks. I was only 20 but carding was a 50/50 shot and the bartender took my order. I ordered a Guinness and sat at the table. My back was only to Ryan for maybe 2 minutes. I looked around at the guys and they were chuckling. Jason had a look of horror on his face. I turned to where their gaze was laser focused. Ryan was making out with one of the dancers. Now in his defense, this person (I have no idea if this was a drag queen or trans woman) passed. I mean they passed. “She” was topless and had a nice rack and at any bar in town, most people would have picked them up. However, this was not a normal bar. I jumped over the table and barrier to the lower level, and began running over to Ryan. I yelled very dramatically “Nooooooo” and grabbed him. He looked pissed. I mean he thinks I’m here trying to commit a sin, cockblocking. I pulled him outside and pointed at the sign. He turned ghost fucking white. The group was laughing loud as fuck. I felt bad for him. He and Jason were my closest friends and I knew this wasn’t going to stay here in New Orleans. 

     That night we found some girls who needed a place to stay. We offered them our room, and I hit it off with one of them. She was fucking cool and a I talked with her for over a year after that night. We ended up in the bed together, but I was a gentleman as per my upbringing, which I later found out from here I shouldn't have been. Nice guys really do finish last. Next day we exchanged ICQ names and that’s how we stayed in touch. 

     We arrived back to the barracks safe and did our normal day before work shit, shined boots, pressed uniforms, got haircuts. No excuses back then. You just didn’t report for duty not squared away. That day in the motorpool our FDO asked the Platoon Sergeant to address the platoon for a minute after our normal Monday inspection. I had a horrible feeling and Ryan looked scared. A look we never showed. Weakness was generally frowned upon. The FDO told the entire platoon what happened because he was being an asshole, but that’s how it was then. The “biggest asshole” was usually a badge of honor. Poor Ryan. He later married a woman he met online who had 3 kids already and she ruined his life. Becky, if you're out there, I hate you.

In Liberty