Frenchman Street in the middle of August is a great time to see the best "real" local NOLA jazz. It's so inhospitably hot and humid that almost no one visits at that time, and as a result, the scene is concentrated with avid local players and attendees.
Had no choice but to accept a ride home from the beach in a Jeep Wrangler with Amerikkkan, Blue Lives Matter, and Trump 2020 flags mounted to the back.
In beach towns, this could be considered a license to drive drunk without consequence. You will never get pulled over with these ornaments flapping behind you. 99% of the surrounding drivers and pedestrians will honk and wave at you, smiling throughout the town.
Shit was mortifying. At the moment I truly wanted to die, but I gotta say, there's probably no greater subterfuge that can be deployed if you are riding dirty.