When crawling out your front door isn’t even an option…

On Saturday, I was invited to a sort of “un-birthday” party where my friends Casey and Brandon blew a $850 gift certificate at the Hookah Cafe on Decatur Street on all of their friends. While the evening started out civilized, some Grey Goose martini’s, shots of Patron and vodka cranberries later degraded into an evening where we were kicked out of the All-Ways Lounge on St. Claude, though I don’t even recall how we got there or when we left the Hookah. Even when we made it back to my apartment, I ended up drinking beer until I finally passed out at dawn.

When I woke at last around 4pm on Sunday, the last thing I wanted was a po-boy. I had planned on meeting up with friends and pigging out on delights like grits & veal grillades po-boys from Le Citron Bistro, Oyster Rockefeller po-boy from Palace Cafe and vanilla ice cream-filled donuts with bananas foster topping from Blue Dot, but sadly…it wasn’t meant to be. I could hear the music and even smell the food from bedroom (which, at the time, was NOT a good thing). Here’s looking forward to Po- Boy Preservation Fest 2012?

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