Mardi Gras: Let the Good Times Roll!
Posted in Blatherings on 02/16/2010 11:59 am by Michele
It’s Fat Tuesday, the culmination of the Mardi Gras celebration. Tonight won’t be so bad for me. I’m painting at a nice Cajun restaurant in Houston that has heaters outside where I’ll be. Also, everyone will be keeping their clothes on. Believe me when I tell you, that’s not always the case.
Many years ago I got used to painting boobs. Since I paint feathers and swirls on everything, I just moved my face paintings down. Also, I got a minimum of $25 for painting ta-tas. It took me less than 5 minutes so I was happy. I did draw the line at glittering the nipples though. I’d shake the glitter on so they’d sparkle. However, if they wanted it put directly on the nipples by hand, I’d give them some glitter and they could go to town. Also, whenever you paint boobs, it always draws a big crowd so you get more paintings.
What was funny was when young guys would come up and say “Honey can you paint this? They thought they would shock me by grabbing their crotch while they said it. They were the ones who were shocked when I said “OK. Come on over.” or “Sorry, I didn’t bring my eyeliner brush.” Still occasionally there were brave ones who tried. (The cops draw the line at male frontal nudity.) One guy in his forties dropped his pants so I could put a lightning bolt on his tush. (This was pre- Harry Potter.) When I finished I told him to be careful, the painting was still wet. He said “Blow on it.” I told him no, that my job was done. So there he stood, bent over with his backside exposed to the world while his girlfriend blew on his fanny. I got $35 for that lightning bolt. It took less than 60 seconds. I do have a photo, but have decided to spare you that. (You’re welcome.)
Over time when I worked at Mardi Gras on the streets I learned to drink as little liquid as possible. You don’t want to have to take bathroom breaks. (When you’re not panting, you’re losing money, and at Mardi Gras that was as much as $150 per hour.) My first year I’d not made prior arrangements to use a private bathroom. I painted continuously for 9 hours. Finally at 6pm and with a long line in front of me, I could wait no longer. I told the crowd, that I just HAD to “go.” The woman next in line said her husband and RV was parked a couple of blocks away and that I could go there. So I ran right over and threw the door open. Her husband was sitting there in the BVD’s. I ran in, used their facilities and ran out, all in under two minutes without saying a word to him. (She had said don’t bother to speak to him.)
Probably the grossest thing I saw happened late one night. Our booth was in a parking lot. So were some porta-potties (thankfully 30 ft. away from us). We heard a ruckus coming from the PP. All of a sudden the door came open and there was a couple in there- an undressed couple. She was leaning over with her head near the seat of the PP. This PP had been used all day by a group of folks who were progressively drunker and drunker. Not to mention, it was overflowing, literally. Everyone in our booth let out a collective gasp when we saw what was going on and worse where it was going on. They seemed quite unaware they they were in full view. (Funny what too much alcohol can do to a person.) I’m no prude but…
There are a lot more tales from Mardi Gras, but I figure I’ve reminisced enough for one day. Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!







