On the way, we had a sighting of the Mardi Gras Indians out and about.
So we had a really nice lunch, and then we got ready to leave, and I asked for the check, because I intended to buy, and when I stuck my hand into my bag, I realized that something slimy had exploded in the interior. I pulled my hand out, and discovered it was a bottle of moisturizer. The top had come off and the entire inside of the bag was now very well moisturized.
I then realized, after taking every single thing out of my bag and putting it out on our table that I could not find the sole credit/debit card with which Jon had dispatched me to NOLA for 3.5 days. I kept digging and unpacking and pulling out great gooey globs of business cards and receipts. No card. I pulled out my laptop, wiped the lotion off of it with a napkin and set it on the table. Still no card.
By this time, the gracious Alice was telling me to chill out – she would pay for lunch. I was embarrassed – because I’d wanted to buy – but I was also wondering what in the heck I would do without any access to money whatsoever. How would I eat? Get to the airport in the morning? Etc.
Alice paid, assuring me it was okay. I apologized profusely, and crammed everything back in my bag. I kept digging around in there with one hand, hoping I’d encounter the lost card as we headed over to Trashy Diva, where Alice wanted to check out the dresses.
The only good thing about having lost my card and having no access to money was that when we got into the shop, I wasn’t tempted to spend way too much money on the AWESOME stuff in there…because I couldn’t.
While Alice tried a few things on, I suddenly realized that I’d left my laptop back at the restaurant. Trying not to sound completely doofuskian, I nonchalantly explained to Alice and the shopgrrl that I just needed to pop back down to the restaurant right quick and pick up my laptop. Yeah…
Saying I’d be right back, still digging hopefully in my bag, I headed back the way Alice and I had come, trying to retrace our route from the restaurant. About three blocks out, I realized that if I went another stp, I would not only never find the still unfound restaurant, but I would also never find my way back to the shop. So I turned around and went back to Trashy Diva. By this time, I was truly mortified.
The ever patient Alice led the way back to the restaurant, where I retrieved my laptop from the hostess. Then we headed back to the hotel, where I was thrilled to find that I’d left the card at the hotel bar, where I’d ordered a soft drink earlier in the day.
Giddy with my success in retrieving my lost items, I headed toward the hotel elevators up to my room, where I planned to rest up for a while before meeting up with some folks for other Mom 2.0 stuff this evening. I got to my room door and realized….that I did not have the hotel room keycard…OR MY DRIVER’S LICENSE.
Sadly, this story does not end with me finding my lost DL. It ends with me sitting in my hotel room, trying to figure out how in the world I will board an airplane to get home in the morning without a photo ID of any kind. I am stumped on this one. I really am.
And somewhere in the French Quarter right now, cocktail hour has gotten underway, and well lubricated tourists are unknowingly walking back and forth over my well-moisturized Tennessee Driver’s License, lying right where it fell from my slippery grasp, somewhere in the middle of Chartres or Rue St. Louis…