We just spent four near perfect days in New Orleans.   I found  steal for our hotel, the weather was gorgeous (with the exception of rain one night) and there was so much to do, I must go back soon.  I imagine that when many people thing of the town, Mardi Gras and flashing and beads come to mind.  I am sure there is a lot of that, but there is so much more as well.  One afternoon, I decided to venture into the French Quarter and see the site of so many Girls Gone Wild videos.

There were restaurants and bars, gift shops and hotels.  It was about six or so when we made it to Bourbon Street.  Although there were people out already drinking out of huge hurricane glasses walking around the streets, the crowds were calm and there was nothing I felt should make me drag Max out of there.  We got to a block that was pretty much all strip clubs.  No biggie.  Max is seven and can read, but there was still nothing I was opposed to him seeing.  Then we came upon Larry Flint’s Barely Legal Club.  In the doorway was a girl, and if she was legal it had to have been her eighteenth birthday.  She was wearing her stripper pole get-up and dancing as though her clothes were already off.  There was nothing I could do to avert Max’s eyes at this point, she was literally two feet away.

His face turned puzzled and he said to her in his unmistakable and overpowering voice, “Did you know that what you are doing is really weird?!?!”  At that point the crowd roared and the girl had nothing other to do than keep on doing her job of choice.  But she looked a bit humiliated.  I felt horrible for her embarrassment.

We skipped over to the next street at that point.