Labor Day

This is back to old times. Fo' sho.

Yesterday morning, my good girlfriend S calls me and says she wants to go out to breakfast. I oblige. Nothing like a good omelet first thing in the morning to start a holiday.

So she comes to get me, we go to this great little breakfast joint, and run into her personal trainer, who consequently joins us. We all talk about how everybody is depressed lately. (Sidenote: a friend tried to convince me this had something to do with Saturn today; not that it has anything to do with the 2nd Anniversary of the Thing).

At the end of breakfast, S says, c'mon, let's go to the beach.

I told her before I wasn't going, but something about that moment... "Sure. Vamanos a la playa."

So we hop in the car, about 10am, and drive to the beach. Florabama, specifically. Because Pass Christian is just a little too close.

We get to the Florabama bar, have some lunch, and go out to the parking lot where we run into fellow New Orleanians, in full costume. They're 2-degree friends of S, and therefore mine. So we chat with them, exchange some Hot Damn and Pucker, and then offer to us our own costumes! S takes the sailor suit, I take the prison stripes, and off we go. Santa, Security guard, Boy Scout, escaped mexican, and then prisoner and sailor. The Security Guard dug himself a hole in the sand, while the sailor built a sand sculpture of Santa.

Ahhhh. Vacation.