The thought of not drinking during the parade had occurred to me. After all, I was in New York, not my hometown of New Orleans, where drinking on the streets is legal and the to-go-cup is practically a birthright. Then again, I was participating in the city's annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade and every other scantily clad mermaid and merman seemed to be downing shots and clutching paper bag-covered beverages.
What hadn't occurred to me was the severity of the New York City Police Department's strict security measures and the virtually impenetrable parade route, which made for a pretty dire bathroom situation. Four hours later, my bladder was so full I looked more like a beached manatee than a svelte mermaid. When the parade finally disbanded, it was all I could do not to break out in a fevered dash for the boardwalk bathrooms.
"It's not a sprint, it's a marathon," is the common—and wise—adage offered to those grappling with their first Mardi Gras season and the requisite boozing that accompanies the festivities. But no matter how much one heeds that advice, Carnival is a multi-week affair, and by the time Fat Tuesday rolls around, most people have traded in good sense and moderation for excess and revelry.
Read more on Tonic
Advertisement