Mardi Gras: the one day where people are proud to be in St. Louis. The day where people are no longer in Misery, USA, but in an alternate dimension full of colors, excitement, and celebration. Instead of ballgowns, there are carefully curated green and purple pants with loud prints. Instead of a pumpkin carriage, there is the MetroLink. Instead of a pair of glass slippers, there are cheap, shiny beads that are haphazardly flung into the crowds from the top of the parade floats. That is the more PG way of obtaining beads, at least.

My day started the same way that any Mardi Gras-goers’ day would — early in the morning, surrounded by people who were already a few shots in. Armed with creatively named BORGs, we headed to the St. Louis MetroLink, which was blocked by security checking for Metro passes instead of the usual non-existent turnstiles and open platform. The Metro finally screeched in around fifteen minutes after the scheduled time. Of course, the parade had to fall on the coldest day of the week, so seeing any enclosed space was a relief. 

The relief was short-lived, as the doors swung to reveal people trying not to tumble out of the car, something I never thought I would see outside of a big city like New York. Despite having paid for a ticket and successfully squeezing into the car, we were promptly kicked off one stop later at Central West End after the train had stalled for fifteen minutes. We rushed off the Metro to beat the surge pricing and waited on the curb for our Uber to arrive.

My personal nightmare — the MetroLink on Mardi Gras (Elle Su | Student Life)

Then came our fairy godmother: the “Superman.” Since no words can do it justice and a picture is worth a thousand words, I will let the photos speak for themselves.

The inside of the Superman. I will give you one guess as to what the driver’s favorite franchise is (Elle Su | Student Life)

The Superman could only seat six, which was one less than the number of people we had. To respect the Superman and also the driver who had dictated where each of us were allowed to sit based on our heights, we wasted the capacity of the UberXL and split into two groups. The car ride was nothing short of a fever dream, but I will save some of the mystery for if you ever happen to be lucky enough to be matched with this Uber in St. Louis.

One of the most unforgiving, cutthroat places — –the port-a-potty at Mardi Gras. I can only assume that the aggression comes from people fighting to not break the seal (Elle Su | Student Life)

The Parade

I am pretty sure she caught it (Elle Su | Student Life)

The North Star in the distance (Elle Su | Student Life)

A perfect representation of how overwhelmed I felt (Elle Su | Student Life)

At around one in the afternoon, the clock of my social battery struck midnight. I said my goodbyes, headed home, and curled up on the floor of my room to nap as the buzzing streets quieted, the MetroLink emptied, and the sidewalks were cleaned of littered beads, resetting for next year’s Mardi Gras.