10. Greggo: check. Jasmine: check. Fish: check. Choppy: check. Shan: check. Richie: check. Slater: check. Sybil: check. Elf: check. Wait, what the what?! Elf: check? For two weeks Mark Elfenbein prompted us to publicly rumble and privately murmur at his elitist plan to forgo the camaraderie of our RV to the Super Bowl and instead fly to New Orleans. “Family stuff,” he called it. “Bullshit stuff,” we said behind his back. But as we were getting settled in on the RV who popped out of the master suite? Sure enough. Elf. He got us. And he got us good. Touche.
9. So we start playing Pictionary. Team A – led by the fiercely competitive Sybil – had to draw “Frown.” Team B – led by the extraordinarily artistic Fish – had to draw “The Fugitive.” I know, right? So Team A wins, sending Sybil and Elf into a spontaneous celebration dance punctuated by “We’re going to Sizzler!” Classy champs.
8. How is our hotel – the not-so-historic O’Keefe Plaza? Let’s just say that Jasmine sleeps fully clothed, on top of the covers, wearing sandals.
7. One guess who sat up front in the co-pilot’s chair. Yep, Greggo.
6. Sybil surprised us all with Cowboys Mardi Gras beads. The sight of Redskins-lovin’ Shan draped in a silver-n-blue star – no, we didn’t even make him flash – was simultaneously satisfying and discomforting.
5. We had the bright idea to stop in Shreveport for a quick gamble. One hand of Blackjack each. For $100. Not surprisingly, it didn’t turn out so well. First of all, she was hungry and he had to go the bathroom and almost immediately the group dispersed. That left a small, splintered faction to gamble. Greggo won his $100 hand. So did Elf. Me and Choppy drew 13 against a 6. Had to stand, hoping for a dealer bust, but the bastard had an Ace in the hole for 17. I’m sure we’ll make it up at the Harrah’s here in New Orleans. Won’t we?
4. Most annoying, surprising personality on the trip has been Choppy. Dude is a beast at trivia, both sports and history and whatnot. But he also yells every spoken syllable, and sometimes he forgets to think before he blurts. As in “It’s tougher to have a boy than a girl,” R.J. bellowed during a conversation about sex, I think. “Chances are like 1 in 5 you’ll have boy!” After we caught our breath from guffawing, Fish retorted “So in the beginning it was Adam and Eve … and Eve and Eve and Eve?!”
3. Not even out of Dallas proper – just short of Gus Thommason Road – there was a loud noise from the top of the RV. Sounded like an ice maker on steroids. Turns out our side tarps had become unfastened and were flapping like giant synthetic wings. Not good. Next thing you know, Greggo’s on the roof in flip-flops, we’re in Home Depot buying zip ties and our schedule is already shot to Hell.
2. First meal in New Orleans: Red Fish Grill on Bourbon Street, where we bumped into ESPN’s Steve Levy. Best crab cake Shan’s ever had, and the dude grew up in Baltimore. Delicious.
1. As we rolled into the Treme District at around 7 p.m., Jasmine opened a side window of our RV, leaned out, stretched her arms and began belting out the theme from Titanic. Welcome to Super Bowl 47…
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