Daiquiri Cafe

I'm in New Orleans right now, sitting in Sara's roommate's room as Sara is taking a nap next door. We just got back from driving through the city. She took me to see the Lower Ninth Ward. There were abandoned homes, FEMA trailers, empty lots, and out-of-place Brad Pitt houses sitting only about ten yards from the banks of the Mississippi. After that, we drove to her old school that is now abandoned, then up St. Charles, where majestic old mansions stand amidst the sounds of the streetcars, and then to the school where she works now.

We made a stop at the Daiquiri Cafe, where I bought a 20oz strawberry daiquiri poured out from a slushee machine into a Styrofoam cup for $5.25, on the way back. This Daiquiri Cafe smelled of cigarette smoke, had slot machines lining the walls, and only sold daiquiris. It was so surreal. I asked Sara where we were. She smiled and suggested I stick with strawberry. I got my cup of slush, stuck my red straw in it, and sucked away. I felt like I was at 7-11. The daiquiri tasted like a 7-11 Slurpee. It was sweet and syrupy and cold with a little bit of a kick from the alcohol.

We then walked over to the levy, me with daiquiri in hand, and strolled to the river, where I took photos of the dirty, brown Mississippi as flies buzzed around us. Afterwards, we got back in the car, me sipping out of my straw, and drove over to the Whole Foods, where we strolled the aisles, me still sipping away. It was so weird to be drinking in a car and at the grocery store. Sara told me that there are also daiquiri drive-thrus. We didn't see any though.