A Private Venue. It could be a Banquet Hall—a Swanky Joint.
The Building is circa 1800’s.
I’m here with my Brother for a Company Party.
Inside, a Bank Vault Door is the entrance to the Bar, suggesting to me that this was, at one time, a Bank.
There are many rooms to walk through—the Walls were painted to look old, circa 1800s.
Lovely artwork hangs on the walls.
Old Furniture, such as Armoirs and tables, are placed throughout.
Each person gets two drink tickets for drinks at the Bar. I give mine away. Water for me tonight.
Some people are in their Sunday Best. Some wear Shorts. I’m somewhere in the middle.
Two different rooms for guests to sit and eat.
Round Tables with White tablecloths cover the rooms. Each table seats six.
Three Buffets are sitting out—two for Dinner and one for Dessert. One person cooks Bananas Foster for guests as they walk up.
A Violinist plays in another room, and his mellow music travels throughout the venue.
I am here with my Brother and two of his co-workers whom I’ve befriended—or they befriended me. I’m not sure. I enjoy their company.
One co-worker is “Chad.”
Chad is about 5’11, with an athletic build. He’s bald.
Chad was a Marine. He runs three miles each morning to stay in shape.
The other is “Jimmy.”
Jimmy is about Seventy Years Old and has been with the company for fifty-one years. Yes. Fifty-One Years.
Chad works with Jimmy, learning Jimmy’s job so that when Jimmy retires, Chad can take over the position.
As we sit, “Chit-Chat” can be heard all around.
Servers walk around with trays of hors d’oeuvres. —I’ve taken a liking to “Shrimp and Crab Puffs.”
Another of my Brother’s co-workers comes to sit with us.
My Brother introduced me to him.
This man stands over Six Feet Tall. He’s in his Fifties and has long, straight hair that is a cross between Blond and Silver.
His nickname is “Wild Bill,” and I can see the resemblance.
Wild Bill has a woman with him. I do not know if she is his Girlfriend or his Wife. He calls her his Lady. So, for this story, I’ll do the same.
Wild Bill is wearing Jeans, Boots, and a Harley Davidson Shirt under a Blue Jean Vest with no sleeves. His Lady is with him.
I speak with Wild Bill here and there and figure out that he is a “Gentle Giant.” He’s a good guy. Everyone at the table is a good guy. I feel comfortable around all of them.
People mingle all around us as we chit-chat with one another.
Many keep going through the Bank Vault Door to the Bar, although I don’t know if anyone at our table was drinking.
I excused myself many times to go to the restroom.
My Brother told Chad and Jimmy about my Spina Bifida and my Colostomy and Urostomy. Jimmy has become protective of me since finding out.
After leaving the restroom, I walked to the room with the Violinist.
I stand and listen. I can tell that the Violin is his Passion—His everything.
The Violinist plays his heart out as I stand and listen.
There are no Tip Jars out for any of the Staff or Violinist. There are no Tips Jars in the place—I’m guessing no tipping is allowed.
I lay a “Bill” down in the back of the Violinist’ Amplifier—Out of sight, out of mind. He smiles. I walk on.
Walking through the crowd, I nod, Smile, and give some “Excuse me’s.”
I walk outside for Fresh Air.
Outside, across the road, I see three teenagers who have decided to play their Guitars for people as they walk by. I cross the street to listen.
Two guys and one girl sit on their amplifiers and read sheet music as they play.
I can tell that they take music in school.
I’m self-taught and can’t read any sheet music. These teens are playing their music as they read it off the sheet music. They’re playing perfect.
The sound is mellow, with blues and jazz mixed in. I stand and listen.
I see that they have set out a Tip Jar. I leave a “Bill” and walk back into the party.
Walking in, I nod to the Security Guard—an off-duty Police Officer.
Back at our table, Wild Bill’s Lady has gotten her face painted with glitter and paint.
I ask where she got it, and she points to the corner.
In the corner are two people, a man and a woman, giving Painted Tattoos and doing face painting.
Wild Bill’s Lady is talking everyone at the table into getting their face painted.
I tell her I’ll only get mine painted if Wild Bill gets his painted. —I figure Wild Bill isn’t getting his face painted. (Can you imagine Wild Bill Hickok getting his face painted?)
To my surprise, Wild Bill exclaims to the table: “What Mama wants, Mama gets.” He then turns to his Lady and says, “Yes, Ma’am.”
Wild Bill then stands up, looks at me, and says, “I’m doing it.”
I look at my Brother, who tells me he will do it too.
Chad and Jimmy join in, and we all hesitantly walk over to the Face Painter.
The time was now 8:00 p.m.
We all have our faces painted.
We look at each other’s faces and laugh. We make Jokes. We’re having a great time.
Then, we decided to leave and walk the streets of New Orleans.
The Streets of New Orleans included a few Clubs and one Scam Artist.
—That’s another story, though.
At the end of that night, I hugged and thanked my Brother for bringing me along on his trip.
I told him I loved him.
And with Glitter Paint all over our faces, we hopped into each of our beds and smushed our faces into the pillows.
In the morning, we got out of bed, stood there, and looked at the Glitter and Paint that covered our pillows and sheets.
My Brother says, “I’ll bet the Cleaning Crew deals with this all the time.”
And it was the perfect outing with my Brother.
