Meeting Rasual Butler

Rasual Butler, wigless in this pictureMy first Halloween in New Orleans last night. Madness. Myself and a few friends headed downtown to the French Quarter and fought our way through the crowds towards even bigger crowds on Frenchmen Street.

Aliens, Elvises, Sarah Palins, Jokers, hot Asian chick cops, ghostbusters, Josh Howard Towelie, Napoleon Dynamite, Tina Turner, jellyfish, Zorro…

…and Rasual Butler in a blonde wig.

True story. There we were failing to squeeze in and take a leak at the Yuki, so we get off Frenchmen and go looking for a calmer spot to do the business. There’s me dressed as Michael Phelps, only my Michael Phelps has a snorkel, flippers, a big awkward rubber tube around his waist, and green jocks over his jeans. You know, exactly like Michael Phelps. We’re stumbling down the side of a street and a black Lexus pulls out of a parking lot just ahead. The driver has the window down, and I have to look twice to be sure. Right the first time, that’s Rasual Butler behind the wheel and a blonde wig upon his head.

I go over and say hey. Great work last night, really rooting for you this season. He takes a minute to shake hands and talk back at the half-drunk Irishman with two pairs of underwear. Real cool. And then he’s gone. Presumably home to rest up. He’ll be getting plenty of minutes tonight against the King.

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