Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Somebody’s Daughter

My friend, Tom, is a physician.  He told me that he is at a medical convention in New Orleans, aka Nawlins, this week.  He is an ophthalmologist.  I told him that he will get an eye-full.

I know of which I speak, for I have been to Nawlins.

When I was a senior in college, age 21 (and that is important information), my school’s spring break coincided with Mardi Gras.  My friend, Frank, said we could stay with his parents in Baton Rouge.  From there, we made a day trip to New Orleans, during Mardi Gras.  I got an eye full.  So did Frank and Sam, my traveling companions.

In New Orleans, in the French Quarter, there was a place that did not have a front window.  It had a curtain instead.  Out of the curtain, swinging over the sidewalk, was a girl on a trapeze, or at least the legs of a female.  She was probably 21 too.  We were all adults, obviously, as this was adult entertainment, or more accurately, an advertisement for adult entertainment inside the premises.

We had lunch there, or a similar place.  The establishment provided food, beverages and adult entertainment.  The waitresses were multi-taskers.  The nice girl with a long blonde ponytail who took our order had clothes on when she brought me my cheeseburger.  Then she went on a stage and took most of those clothes off.  She traded places with other server/strippers.  It was a very efficient use of staff.  Very flexible employee plan.

Now here is where I had some weird thoughts for a red-blooded American male college student.  I started thinking that these girls (particularly our waitress, who had been humanized beyond a mere sex object by conversation about our order and looked our age), were somebody’s sisters, probably, and somebody’s daughters, definitely.

I have a sister.  I thought, as I sat eating my lunch, that I would not want her to work there.  I saw it as degrading.  At the time, I did not have any daughters, but now I do.  I don’t want them to work there either.

Anyway, back to my travelog, I recommend the double cheeseburger with sweet potato fries.   I can’t think of the name of the place, but it will come to me.

If you go there, please say hello to the waitress with the ponytail.  (It might be gray now).  She will surely remember me because we had such a nice conversation about spring break and the Mardi Gras and various things.  If her memory is foggy after a few decades, for we were there when Archie Manning was quarterback of the Saints, remind her that I was the guy who had the double cheeseburger.  I vaguely recall wearing a blue sweatshirt.  Tell her that.  I probably made a big impression.

It was an unforgettable experience for both of us.  Or at least one of us.

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5 thoughts on “Somebody’s Daughter

  1. If only we could always remember that we are a child of God first and foremost, and that every one else around us is as well. That kind of makes them all our brothers and sisters. Sons and daughters….working in professions that bring pride or shame on the family; working at jobs that have little meaning to who we are as people, working at occupations that bring healing to others and wealth to our families. In some cultures, these women are considered to be part of the global human trafficing, and yet in others, it is simply a chosen occupation…chosen often by circumstance. I saw a notice on facebook today that at a particular Wal-Mart they had bins where you could put “food items” to benefit the employees that would otherwise have a very bleak Thanksgiving. So, ring up my purchases and Put grilled onions on my burger please! I’m thankful for an occupation that I was proud of, and a nice retirement. I’m thankful that was not myself or my daughter serving you in New Orleans.

    • I agree. Some things are degrading. That is why I have always turned down opportunities to be a male stripper. When I wear chaps, I have jeans on under them. On the other hand, maybe I could have paid for law school that way, instead of loading trucks at night. Teamster pay was better than what law firms paid clerks. I did both jobs one summer.

      • I’m sure Miss Sugar would enjoy that outfit, fit for her eyes only!

      • It is funny that you would bring up Miss Sugar. Actually, Sugar got in big trouble with her father for a lesser action. After winning the swimsuit competition in the Miss Texas pageant, a modeling agency got her jobs as a swimsuit and lingerie model at the Dallas Apparel Mart. The agency also got her “print work.” Sugar’s father was furious when she appeared in quite a tame but very large lingerie ad in the Dallas Sunday newspaper. The ad was for TexSheen, not Frederick’s of Hollywood. Sugar’s father was ashamed of her and almost went around the neighborhood stealing their papers before the neighbors got up. Sugar is, you see, somebody’s daughter and somebody’s sister, now somebody’s wife and somebody’s mother.

  2. Thank you, and just because I modeled for now, VINTAGE Texsheen Lingerie, my innards were still pure.

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