“Absolutely my favorite time—and everyone who was involved in this evening swears it was the best time they ever had at the Spotted Cat—was during Tropical Storm Cindy. But that was… I don’t know if I want that in print. Cuz I was fuckin’ really drunk.”
– Curtis Casados (artist and bartender)
CC (continued from above): … You know what, I don’t fuckin’ care. It was years ago. I’d worked the night before, and Tropical Storm Cindy, to give you some perspective, was the last storm before Katrina. In fact, a year later, they actually went back and upgraded it to a Category 1 Hurricane. It was a rough storm.
The night before that I’d worked at the Cat, late shift, like 8 o’clock, 9 o’clock, whatever it was, until closing time. I got off work there at 2, 3 in the morning and came down here to the Abbey. The bartender was shook up, and I don’t remember if someone had tried to rob her, or if she thought someone was casin’ the joint, something she was a little spooked by. And her doorman left, and I just stayed like 16 or 18 hours, til I had to get back to work the next night for 8, 9 oclock, and I show up to work fuckin’ just obliterated, like blackout drunk at that point.
I get there and the first band is gone and the second band was playing. Dominic Grillo, John Rodli, Matt Rhody, St. Louis Slim, and some girl that came in with Dominic. And a couple random customers who hung around for a little while.
Well, about 40 minutes after I showed up there, all the power went out in the Marigny Triangle. And of course, since I’m a little in my cups at that point, I decided that I’m gonna lock the doors and whoever is in here is in here and no one else is coming in and we’re gonna have a party.
I announced it, I said, just so y’all know, y’all make your own damn drinks. Which you think would be a recipe for anarchy with all these musicians, but it wasn’t. Everybody would come behind the bar, take a turn, make drinks for everybody else, and when they got tired somebody else would step back there.
Meanwhile, I’m at the bar drinking a Maker’s and coke, which I never drink anyways, and I’d get three sips in and somebody would lift my head, they would take my drink and drink and drink it, ‘cuz I was clearly not drinking it, and I’d wake back up and order another one. This went on for about 6 drinks. The only thing I think at that point was keeping me awake at all was the girl that had come in with Dominic was very beautiful.
At some point, John Rodli went looking for me and found me passed out on the floor of the women’s bathroom and brought me back out to the bar.
Now people are starting to leave. The storm is starting to pick up and it’s getting kinda nasty out there. And Matt Rhody, God bless him, said, “I’m gonna help you close the bar down.” I was in no shape. At about 2:30 in the morning I kinda came out of my black out and thought it was 10am. I got a lot of this piecemeal from everyone else.
So it’s just me and Matt, and the storm is about hitting its peak. The wind is blowing so hard and the rain is horizontal. I mean it’s not even coming down anymore. The water on Frenchmen Street has risen so high it’s actually lapping the door of the Spotted Cat, which is recessed in from the sidewalk quite aways.
It was just about to start coming under the door, so Matt helped me finish closing, we put all my money away and all of the bottles, and he says, “Man, it’s getting kinda nasty out there, do you need a ride somewhere?”
And I said, “Yes, I do.”
“Where are you going to?” he asked.
And I said, “The John.”
For more about Frenchmen’s evolution, take a listen this, a track from my radio album featuring a live recording of Curtis and Pizza Mike discussing the Spotted Cat, the smoking ban, and Frenchmen’s old “borrow a cup of sugar” mentality.
