I hugged a friend last night…

Don’t worry – we were both wearing masks. My husband and I went to one of our favorite watering holes, the Deutsches Haus, for the “covid version” of their annual Oktoberfest. No live music, crowd size control, masks, social distancing. It was very surreal. The last time I had been at the Haus was Friday, March 13th – my last normal day. Pardon my language, but how fucked up is that? That the most “unlucky” superstitious day of the year would be the last normal one. It had been a brutal week at work. The pandemic had just begun rearing its ugly head, and it was beginning its heartless assault on the hospitality and tourism industry in New Orleans. Not sure about what exactly would happen, clients began postponing or cancelling their events that week. It seemed like every 15 or 20 minutes, I was sending out an email entitled “Event Cancelled” to our internal staff. Parties were dropping like flies. When my husband picked me up at the end of the day on that Friday, my first words were, “I need a drink.” And I wanted to go to the Haus. So off we went, and we sat at the bar (remember that?) And we were able to visit with the bartender, one of our very good friends, April. She also sits in front of us in our section at the Superdome as a fellow season ticket holder. So there was the requisite German beer, and a couple of shots of my go-to Slivovits (Serbian plum brandy – sounds more delicate than it really is; it’s basically grain alcohol). Of course, we ate some delicious German food for dinner, and we got to see a few of the other regulars. We also, as is common, struck up conversations at the bar with some new people who had never been there before. It was a great night and exactly what I needed after such a rough week in the office. After that, the coronavirus spiraled out of control and wreaked havoc on just about everything you could imagine. There’s SO much to tell about those first early days and the months that have followed. But that will wait for another post. The Haus re-opened its doors at the end of May, with covid protocols, but I had to psych myself up to go. I wanted to support one of my favorite local businesses, but I just didn’t want to deal with all the restrictions. It wasn’t going to be the same, and I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy myself. Well, I finally broke down this weekend, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought. But it was surreal, and bittersweet – wearing a mask unless you are at your table, no sitting at the bar, standing in line to wait your turn to order your drinks, no congregating at other people’s tables, music being played over a speaker as opposed to live. I think that’s what hurt me the most. Not seeing the band on stage, the crowds of revelers singing and dancing…it was almost as dead as the cemetery next door. But the best part of the night was when my friend April came out from behind the bar, and we shared a long, tight, warm hug. We hadn’t seen each other since March 13th. I cried, of course. All the months of anxiety and uncertainty coursing through my veins…so much of it is still ongoing. But it felt SO good to hug my friend. We had talked about it before it happened. Weird, I know. Everything in this world is weird right now. But the physical touch of another human being, the hug from a friend – I believe that is what the world is craving most of all. It was good to see my friend. And like she said to me a couple of times, this ISN’T going to last forever, and it IS going to get better and go back to normal. I sincerely hope so, and I cannot wait for that day. In the meantime, there was lots of German beer and a couple of shots last night as well. I drank too much. Some things NEVER change…