Nothing will make you miss New Orleans
faster than finding out you can't buy liquor.
It's 12:30 a.m. on a Sunday night (or
Monday morning, if that's how YOU tell time). I have hard American currency and
27 years of age. I have a driver's license with a baked-looking picture of me
as proof and everything. But no go – at this point, I might as well be in
Oxford, Mississippi. No booze for me.
