On January 1st, 2007, I was among sixteen volunteers who piled into two vans and set off through the heart of the American south to recover New Orleans.
Now, thats all very nice, but what is a trip without food. At first we were resolved to visit Colemans BBQ, but it was closed on the first. Thus, we were forced into a Wendy's for lunch.
When we reached our lodgings in New Orleans, our luck had not improved in the slightest. By the time we had settled in and were ready to eat a tasty Cajun meal, we realized that no stores, no shops, no restuarants were open save for McDonalds, and that was only the drive-thru.
It was with great caution that fourteen of us (two were absent, gone shopping) proceeded to jump up and down in front of the speaker, hoping to activate it. Finally, in realization that we did not weigh nearly as much as a full grown car, Mick boldly walked to the second window in front of a white SUV and demanded that a quarter-pounder with cheese be served to him immediately.
One by one, the remaining thirteen of us followed suit, the woman at the window dutifully taking down our orders, one by one, while talking on her mobile phone. After the seventh order (aka, the fifth double cheesebuger) she looked out into the drive-thru and, beholding a motley gang of Missourians that would terrify a lesser woman, calmly spoke into her phone:
"Girl, I'm gonna have to call you back."
We all slept well that night, and over the next five day our dinners gradually became better to the point that we were eating po'boys and mufalattas. The rest of our stay was just as eventful, but I can sum it up in one quote:
Nothing makes a man feel powerful like tearing down drywall with a crowbar
Happy New Year!