The Krewe of Bacchus Extravaganza

The rest of the week between my first full weekend of parades and the weekend leading into Mardi Gras itself was fairly uneventful. I worked, and worked, and worked until my head was spinning.

Saturday, February 21, 2009, I took in the Krewe of Endymion parade with some of Shaun's friends: Denise and Jean. Met a very cute college sophomore (don't ask me his name because I'd already had a flask of bourbon by the time I met him) from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette in town with his parents and friends. We left the crowd to go up to Jean's office building around the corner to use the bathroom, and somehow a delightful hour got away from us-don't have any idea how THAT happened. I wasn't impressed with the floats anyway so, no harm no foul.

Then Sunday rolled around. The day I'd been waiting for for nearly a week.... Let me rewind and give you the back story: A dear friend that I met through work, who continues to work with me to this day on my client's program (and who also happened to be one of the few people I actually new in this state before I moved here), called the night of Monday, February 16, 2009, with a very exciting invitation. He told me that his father, who is a member of the Krewe of Bacchus and purchases a table at the extravaganza every year, was not able to give out two of the tickets, and he wanted to know if I'd like to attend. My response, albeit much more lady-like, was something to the effect of: HELL YEAH I'd like to go! He had two invitations for me and if I could convince one of my friends to come out, or find a date, they'd be more than welcome to attend as well.

You all realize that I'm very new to this whole experience, but to be invited to go to the Bacchus Ball is such prestigious honor. There are people in New Orleans that try to get into Bacchus every year and never receive an invitation. You can purchase tickets to The Zulu Ball or to the Endymion Ball, but Bacchus is by invitation only and it is one of the MOST elite balls of the whole season. Tuxes and floor-length ball gowns ONLY. Ladies who showed up in tea-length gowns have actually been turned away in the past. The ladies in my office were rather taken aback and amazed when I informed them I'd be attending.

Parties like this (Balls, Cotillions, Formals, etc.) are right in my wheelhouse. I LOVE them. Always have and always will. Any excuse to put on a gorgeous dress, put my hair up, and dance the night away like a princess makes me happy. I bought a gown that Tuesday after my friend extended the tickets. A beautiful gold, buttercream dress, and, since it's Mardi Gras, a lovely royal purple wrap to go over my shoulders. A borrowed clutch and shoes, and I was set for the ball.

Despite my begging of nearly every friend I have, no one could find the time to get out here for the party Sunday night. I asked the ladies in the office if they knew anyone single in the 30-45 age bracket that would like to go as my date. No commitments, nothing special, just a date to the ball. NONE of the women here knew of anyone. How do 12 women not know of a single person who fits the aforementioned description???? How is it possible? It boggles the mind, I tell you.

I slept in on Sunday. Got up and did some running around and came back for a late lunch. My friend called to tell me what the plans were. Knowing full well that the City shuts down 75% of the streets surrounding my house for the Uptown/New Orleans parades, I knew I needed to call a cab around 6:15. I wasn't planning on trying to find a place to park near the Convention Center and THEN have to walk in heels and a ballgown, especially given my propensity to fall.

I called Neo, who had picked me up and taken me home after I missed my first parade down in the Quarter several weeks ago. Neo wasn't working until 8pm, but would call someone to come get me. Excellent. Had more time to get ready and was doing so when said person apparently came by my house at 6:30. Rather than call me to tell me he was at the house to pick me up, because I wasn't standing outside, he left. HE LEFT!!!! Neo called back to make sure I'd been picked-up, and when I told him I hadn't even known the guy was there, he called the guy, called me back and said that the taxi driver had left and could not and would not be back. WTF?!?!?! NOT coming back? How am I supposed to get to the ball NOW??? It's like a bad version of Cinderella.

My friend and his wife couldn't come and get me; their car was valeted and would take at least 45 minutes to be delivered and the two of them were still getting ready. My only choice, after calling every single taxi company in my Uptown phone book, was to call Omar. Recall exactly who Omar is: the cab driver that asked me to be his girlfriend. Yikes. Faced with no other alternative, I called Omar. He was delighted to hear from me, said he would be happy to come and get me, but was on his way to the airport now. He'd call me when he was on his way back.

While I finished up trying to get my hair to stay in position, Omar called and said he was stuck on I-10 at Mid-City and that the roads were completely jammed. He'd be AT LEAST another 45 minutes. Are you kidding me?!?!?! I called my friend who immediately began freaking out. The roads were going to be shut down momentarily and I may not be able to get there at all. The decision was made that I needed to hop in my car with all due haste and get there as soon as I could. Fine. I'd make it work.

At this point, I hadn't put on my dress since I didn't want to sit in it and have it get wrinkled. I slid the zipper down and put the gown on. Moving the zipper up. Uh, oh. Zipper not moving. The zipper on this dress is sewn right into the fabric as a hidden zipper-like in a wedding gown-and is coming up the right side of my rib cage. I'm able to get the zipper to a very precarious location and it won't move any further, no matter what I do. What in the world is gonna happen if I can't get this dress zipped? I don't know any of my neighbors to ask for assistance, and if I have to show up to this ball and ask my friend's WIFE to help me out, I will die of embarrassment. Finally, I make the decision to slide the dress around so the zipper is right smack in front, dead center, slide my arms out of the spaghetti straps, stop breathing, and yank as hard as I can. Tada! Zipper up. Now the tough part: sliding the dress back around and getting my arms back through the straps. I blew out every cubic inch of air I had in my lungs and pulled, and the dress moved. I heard the Hallelujah Chorus in my head!

Out the door, down the steps, into the car, at the Convention Center in 5 minutes. Parking assistance from my tuxedo-clad friend, car parked, into the ball we go with his lovely wife, sisters, mother, and the rest of his family.

The parade through the Convention Center was like none I'd ever witnessed. The Krewe of Bacchus floats are so beautiful, ornate, and incredible, words cannot even describe. I caught a ton of signature float beads and some other remarkably beautiful strands as well. Val Kilmer was the King of Bacchus and he looked so happy up on the King's float! He had a smile from ear to ear. I danced the night away, first with my friend's family, and then with one of the members of the Krewe who happened to ride on the same float as my friend's father. I've never had such a great time, ever! They all left around 1ish. I stayed to hang out a little longer, but by that time, I didn't know anyone else, so I just decided to go. Got home around 2am, but if I'd had someone else with me, I would have stayed out until the sun came up! I'm so spoiled now that I really am gonna want to go back to the Bacchus Ball every year (need to start dating a guy who's part of the Krewe!)

A toast to the God of Wine! A very heartfelt thanks to my friend for thinking of me with the invitation! And here's wishing that every Mardi Gras is as fun as this one has been!