Martins road trip and southern adventures

[martin ewen]

"Freaks and Ho's" is the name of the bar.
Staff were advertised as either, sexy freaky or trashy.
Obese strippers and tossed dwarfs.
The bar holds a couple of hundred, there's two small stages at the back ends on which a succession of topless large woman perform.

It can distort the pace of striptease when what is yet to be revealed is so hard to conceal and that's all I have to say about that.

The staff were either heavily pierced (which is freaky or trashy depending on your upbringing)
or wore fishnets and visible bras (which is sexy or trashy depending on whether you were a breach birth or not)
The punters were mostly locals as the bar is a couple of blocks from Bourbon St., your usual smear of curious detachment as we all hung out for as long as it took to see a big guy throw a little guy across the room.
And after 3 hours or so a large fat man (strangely non naked) announced the main event of the evening, a gym mat was unrolled and a tiny man with a full face helmet, extensive padding, a cape and a handle in the middle of his back (who I'll name Timmy Trajectory) was introduced to thunderous applause.
Heres the gig, prearranged strongmen compete against each other to throw a dwarf as far as they can for cash. They have 2 throws each.
The crowd line the throwing lane baying and hooting as the MC dredges enthusiasm from an over mined resource. I suspect what's being celebrated is a bent but understandable form of non-dwarfism.
I really really wanted Timmy trajectory to go high rather than long as I had noticed an overhead fan that could have provided a quality of entertainment that was otherwise lacking. But sadly the sight of a cape'd dwarf spinning uncontrollably from a ceiling fan as people tried to dislodge him with brooms was denied us.
Instead he was merely hoisted a matter of yards underarm and the difference in distance between the competitors was about a foot. Timmy seemed to enjoy himself and hung out at the bar afterwards receiving more attention from sexy, freaky, trashy people than he would, in my opinion, have got if he hadn't been flung across the room.
So one one hand we see exactly what a lonely dwarf might do for company and on the other we get to see ourselves as sad, pathetic and cruel with a bottomless appetite for distraction.
Could be worse, I could be a mime.Heh heh.

[ 02-25-2003: Message edited by: martin ewen ]</p>

[martin ewen]

One of the few, rare, street performers who perform in the very thick of Bourbon St during Mardi-gras in arguably one of the most hectic and challenging environments in Street theatre is
‘The Famous Mardi-gras Fisherman’.
His costume is a standard, bright yellow, fisherman's outfit with suspended baggy trousers, jacket and large triangular waterproof hat a small fishing rod and a tackle-bag.
This is his gig, he has two modes of operation, one up on the balconies and one down in the street. One is ‘Fishing’ and the other ‘Nipple Sundaes’
‘Fishing’ involves getting up to one of the balconies and taking out his rod and baiting it with his own mass- produced ‘Famous Mardi-gras fisherman’ beads and then lowering the beads out over the heads of the passing throng.

(the whole bead culture revolves around them being bargaining tokens for licentious behaviours mostly involving exposure of one genital or another).
He teases people by lowering and then lifting the beads as they frantically grasp for them while alternately grasping their shirts and yanking them up to reveal their breasts until he relents and relinquishes the beads before rewinding, rebating and fishing afresh.

The “nipple sundae” is performed on the ground, in the hectic hurley burley mass of staggering, leering humanity and involves selecting a passing woman and offering her a nipple sundae. If she is willing, the tackle box is opened and the operation commences. Whipped cream is squirted ‘round her nipple, then confectionary sprinkles are dusted over that, and finally, using tweezers, a cherry is taken from a jar and placed over the cream-covered nipple.
A moment passes, frozen in time, while passers by and the woman wearing the sundae are struck dumb (or dumber) by the absurd, surreal, hyper reality of the situation and then either the famous Mardi Gras fisherman or the woman’s partner or a goaded passer by devours the cream and cherry from its frame.
I talked to the fisherman (real name Adam) and his tackle box also contains KY jelly, a large, black, double headed dildo and candy flavoured condoms, but at this point, I must draw a discrete veil over further ‘famous Mardi-gras fisherman’ misadventures and instead relate a typical corn-fed middle american adventure that could only take place at Mardi-gras.
(True story I swear)
A chevy taxi-van was crawling through the crowds of Bourbon round 4am when it was hailed by a drunk couple (man and woman).
The guy slides the side door open to let his girlfriend in, they both get in and he starts trying to slide the door shut, it sticks somehow so he gets back out for more leverage and trys harder to pull the door shut.
(the driver at this point was just beginning to show signs of frustration).
He’s drunk, he’s confused, and there’s no telling how stupid he was to begin with but at some point in his frustrated heaving at the door he switches from yanking at it along the length of the doorway to actually just heaving at it in an in/out fashion, just pulling at it pointlessly.
(the driver at this point starts getting out of the taxi)
Just as the driver leaves the taxi and starts around it, the door of the taxi comes off completely and the bewildered guys just left there holding it, his heads at the top and his legs at the bottom, drunk and confused and miles from home and comprehension.
The driver who’s a 6ft something black guy rounds the front of the taxi and in one motion swings and connects to the doorholders temple with a punch that lifts him off his feet and send him flying back about 3 feet to land on his back with the door on top of him.
He’s unconscious for around15 seconds , then stirs and gets back to his feet,STILL HOLDING THE DOOR.
He gazes about distracted as his senses all come running back into their kennels, he scans the crowd, the livid driver, his girlfriend in a doorless cab and the door in his hand, as a large purple swelling begins its lifecycle on the side of his head. he smiles, then laughs and exclaims
“Well THAT was worth it.”
Before handing the door back to the stunned (and now disarmed)driver, grabbing his girlfriend and staggering away through the crowd.
more later...Fat tues

[ 03-08-2003: Message edited by: martin ewen ]</p>