Gary has been given increased decision-making power for this winter vacation. I originally wanted to see Biltmore mansion, and he countered with climbing Half-Dome in Yosemite in the snow. Then he talked himself out of that and we settled on New Orleans.
I made the horrible mistake of showing him an article titled What Not to Do in New Orleans, and he became convinced that New Orleans is a Bad Idea. (My guess is he read the Bourbon Street paragraph that included the words “showgirls,” “transvestites” and “cover bands.”) To get him out of the funk I had to make a list of everything I want to do in New Orleans. There are about twenty things, and ten start with “Eat.”
I’d narrowed the hotels down to five (Friend #2 was very helpful) and had Gary make the final decision. He picked the haunted one off Bourbon. Of course I’m thrilled, not just because it’s a nice boutique hotel but because any problems are his fault now. I anticipate there will be noise, but we have earplugs. I don’t know what he has against transvestite showgirls who play in cover bands but they’ll be caterwauling right under the balcony and IT WON’T BE MY FAULT.