Here’s to Starbuck’s toilets:
Coveted entry keys dangling from oversized metal spoons
Hanging near the pickup counter –
No purchase necessary.

Here’s to hostesses, clerks, cashiers and managers
Sensing desperation,
Hastily and gravely unlocking doors which declare,
“For employees only.”

Here’s to VIP festival tickets
And dinner cruises
With dedicated restrooms for ticket holders
(I’ll gladly pay the price);
Parade Porta-Potties;
Walking tours
With scheduled restroom breaks;
Buses and ferries and trains and planes
With onboard facilities.

Here’s to the NOLA Mardis Gras parade in the Marigny,
A private home on the corner selling drinks,
Bathroom inside.

And when all else fails,
Here’s to super-duty, narcotic, prescription-strength Lomotil
(and simply not eating)
For two-hour canoe trips,
Christmas trolleys,
Swamp airboat rides,
Hop on/hop off buses,
And outboard motor boat trips on the bayou.

This is my time.
I will not be defeated.