A few weeks ago, H. and I had the chance to visit his hometown in Louisiana. Whenever I told people where we were going, they always asked if we were going to New Orleans. But the thing is, New Orleans is, like, 6 or 7 hours from Shreveport. Shreveport’s basically in Texas. Still, though, this was the farthest south I’ve ever traveled, and I learned that the south is weird! For one, there are DRIVE THRU DAIQUIRIS.
If you’re from a state that offers these, you’re probably like, “Yeah, sure, what’s the big deal?” To that I say “ARE YOU CRAZY?” How is this normal? Serving alcoholic drinks to people who are operating motor vehicles? This is a preposterous idea!
Oh, but it’s okay, because they tape the straw on top of it. Sure. That probably works. I mean, did I buy one? Obviously. But, as you can see here, I didn’t open it while I was in a car. I’m a rule follower.
But there was more to Louisiana than alcohol…like food! H. was mostly excited about visiting Strawn’s, a restaurant he went to a lot as a kid that’s known for its pie. And he was right–it was great! Look at all that whipped cream.
We also had fried chicken and black eyed peas (not the Black Eyed Peas) because, you know, we were in the south. I’m pretty sure you’re legally required to eat fried food and black eyed peas.
We also went to Southern Maid donuts because we saw them on a list of best donut places (whatever…don’t act like you’ve never looked at a list of the best donuts in the country) AND because I read that they’re the only product Elvis ever endorsed. Apparently he sang their jingle at one point, but it’s been lost to time and/or kept a secret? I don’t know if I believe it, guys. It sounds sketchy. All I know is that Elvis probably ate these donuts, and that’s good enough for me. Side note: there’s a donut place in Columbus (Buckeye Donuts!) where Prince once ate, and that’s even more exciting to me.
How much do you love that dog pushing a donut cart? Not that I’m advocating animal labor, but Miss Merry Mary (star of TV and stage) clearly knows what’s up.
We did things other than eat, too. When H. said we could visit his cousin and ride 4-wheelers, I was like, “Hmmm…no.” I know multiple people who’ve been paralyzed or seriously injured from 4-wheelers, so I’d rather keep my distance. But then he was all, “Oh, and she has a llama named Chester,” and I said, “GRAB YOUR KEYS.”
And there also goats!
And here I am in my natural habitat, surrounded by cows.
We got to feed them by hand and their tongues are huge.
Please don’t be fooled by my LSU attire. I still couldn’t care less about football. But sometimes relationships are about sacrifices, and that means wearing football shirts if (and only if) they look cute.
It was a great trip, but I was glad to come home and start eating food that was at least not completely unhealthy. I’m still thinking about that llama, though. Chester’s on my mind and in my heart.