Another blog entry proving I’m obsessed with New Orleans…
When they vote for most friendly city, I think the following story should be taken into account:
My brother Keith and I (yeah, yeah, another “My brother and I…” story) were walking down Bourbon Street when Keith spots two very large football-tackle-size men in the middle of the street – one drinking a 5th of Crown Royale straight from the bottle. Keith walks up and extends his hand saying, “That deserves recognition.” They shake hands and the guy’s buddy offers Keith a drink. Keith declines but the guy pulls out a bottle (a real bottle, not one of those little airline toy bottles) of vodka from a backpack, a bottle (once again, full size) of orange juice, and a fresh cup. He proceeds to mix a screwdriver standing in the middle of the street and hands it to Keith. They shake our hands, tell us to have fun, and be safe.
So far as friendly city criteria goes, this tops out way above colorful airport lounges or downtown shrubbery. No contest. 😉