Mr. Police Officer

This might be the worst job ever to have during Mardi Gras. Everyone drunk and you responsible for making sure they don't do something stupid like kill themselves. Accidentally.

Two years ago we were almost arrested at Mardi Gras. I don't know why we followed the foreigner and crossed through the band during Bacchus, but we did. And we made it across too, but were foiled by a wall of ladders. "Move along. You can't come back here," yelled aggressive uptown dad. "We have children back here."

"Back here" meant the neutral ground, which I thought was a public space even if you do cross illegally and are stopped by a wall of ladders. And, what exactly did he think we were going to do to the children "back there"? We weren't even drunk enough to scare children at that point.

I opened my mouth to be a smart ass but was interrupted by a huge hand on my shoulder. It was a Mr. Officer, and he said that if I ever tried anything like that again (crossing the parade route through the band), my ass would spend Mardi Gras in jail. "Yeah!" screamed aggressive uptown dad.

I admit we were wrong for crossing. If everybody crossed whenever they wanted, it would be chaos. Which brings me back to the Mr. Officer in front of the old K&B Plaza. No ladders under the Expressway. Children were standing on control boxes and dropping from the sky. And, he calmly stood there. Whistling even. And, no one dared step beyond the invisible line that he created with his standing tall.