ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
With the first scorching days of spring here, French Quarter pub enjoyer Mark Thompson bid farewell to the Guinness tap at down at his local.
“For me, Guinness is like a cozy blanket in a glass,” Mark told The Advocate down at the Royal Commercial Railway Courthouse Hotel on Rue du Putain.
“But once the temperatures rise, it’s time to part ways. I’m not putting that shit in my body when it gets above 20.”
Mark has upheld this seasonal tradition for years, indulging in the rich stout only during the colder months. He insists that attempting to enjoy Guinness in warm weather is a clear sign of questionable sanity.
“I saw a guy order a pint on Christmas Eve,” Mark recalled, shuddering at the memory.
“Even the bartender was a bit taken aback. You can tell he was offended when the barman said, ‘Are you fucked in the head, mate? It’s 39 fucken degrees in the shade out there!’. He mustn’t have been from around here.”
From now until about late May, Mark will be seen clutching a glass of white wine.
“Any white from Queensland is my go to,” he said.
“They say you haven’t been hungover until you’ve been hungover on sparkling mango wine from Ingham. Combine that with a packet of black market Chinese cigarettes and a bag of speed, you’ve got one hell of a hangover. Oh, to all that in direct sunlight in December in the middle of the Simpson Desert.”
More to come.
