Austin and All Points Beyond, Part One

Downtown Austin, with the Capitol in the backdrop.

Austin, Texas. It's the most non-Texas city in all of Texas--and I've been to Dallas, El Paso, Houston, San Antonio, and San Angelo. It's a bohemian bastion--rightfully earning their unofficial motto of "Keep Austin Weird". It was on a lot of the t shirts that I spotted (and nearly bought) at Austin-Bergstrom International Airport. I landed there in early August for a bit of fun and work. Mostly work, but I made the weekends my own.

Spent the first weekend at a not-so-dodgy Super 8 Hotel off of 12th Street. Right at the edge of the downtown core. Not really sure you could call it a "hotel" though. But that's neither here nor there so let's move on. 

Stay thirsty, my friends.

I had dinner at Mexitas Mexican Restaurant, a halfway decent joint for a beer and an affordable dinner--and curiously in the same plaza as a bingo hall, which I thought was brilliant and funny. I had enchiladas and a Dos Equis. Good combo.

Sixth Street is not quite ready for me, or is it the other way around?

But enough of dinner, it was time for a trip to 6th Street--cornucopia of drinking, dancing and debauchery--along with being a center of culture, music, and everything in between. Being a Friday night, I sauntered over to my usual haunt, Barbarella, sister nightclub of Independent Bar in Orlando and Barbarella Tampa in Tampa's Ybor City District. Unfortunately overslept due to exhaustion from hanging out the night before (I'm not a fan of being awake, alert, or sober on flights--and I'm not a fan of flying in general), so I didn't get out till a bit after midnight. I did run into one of my old friends--Holly--now the general manager over there, and had a few drinks before the dreaded 2am closing time rolled around.

Saturday morning came along and it was time to hit up  on South Congress Ave--or SoCo for short--full of antiquing, an eclectically savory assortment of food trailers, art, and great shopping in general. I wish I had taken photos, but it was tough walking around in 100 degree heat with not a cloud in the sky. Austin's summer has a different kind of heat. Half oven heat, half humid. Something like that. Hot is hot. That's all that matters. So instead of photos, lots of links coming.

On to the shopping. I browsed through Lucy in Disguise with Diamonds, Service Menswear (where I picked a wicked pair of Chuck Taylor Double Zip High-Tops by John Varvatos), Tesoros Trading Company (and picked up some stuff for my mum), Allens Boots (just to check out the cowboy boots, not actually buy any), New Bohemia (an awesome retro store where I picked up the world's ugliest shirt--you'll see it later in this post), Uncommon Objects (where I found a sextant that folded into a case, but was too pricey), and Yard Dog Folk Art. I also stopped over at Stag (where I got my brother a pretty spiffy wallet), and had a quick bite to eat at the SoCo Trailer Eateries (too hot to have anything hot, so I went with shaved ice).

After that I headed back north on Congress to downtown. Next stop? tenOak Bourbon House & Lounge for a late lunch. I ordered the typical Jack & Coke and had this for a meal: 

I cannot express to all of you the joy of eating  all of this.

tenOak Steak! 6 oz of steak happiness with chimichurri sauce and roasted garlic mashed potatoes. Had mine cooked medium rare. Heaven in my mouth. Seriously. It was excellent. But either way, this lunch was on point.

I was full and happy, and headed to Wild About Music on 6th Street. Ended up buying a guitar pick. Never know when you'll need one. After a quick stop at Buffalo Billiards, I headed back to the hotel for a much needed nap. This time, I set the alarm. Then I decided to put on the ugly shirt that I got at New Bohemia.

Maybe not ugly, but sure as sin different. I thought it worked.

First stop on 6th Street? It was time to run the gauntlet, Texas style. Lots of shots. Lots of random beers. I stopped at The 512 Bar on 6th and Shakespeare's Pub. 

The first volley--a proper shot! 

There was lots of Summer 2012 Olympics on pretty much every television, so that was cool. I think it was the swimming finals with Michael Phelps and the US Team dominating.

I wandered about some more, but ended up at old reliable, Barbarella. I had a blast there. Had some random English girl buy me a shot, ended up dancing a lot. I also got a tarot card reading. 

Got a reading at Barbarella's courtyard. I have no idea what this meant, but his reading was actually on point. I tipped him well.

And somehow I got back to the hotel in one piece after the pedicab ride. One epic Saturday night. Totally epic. Sleepy time. Or actually, passing out time. Story of my life.

Unfortunately, I had to meet up with some coworkers the next day for the work part of the trip. Can't win 'em all. But next weekend gets better.

Next: The second weekend is even more awesome. I convince my coworkers to take the plunge into Austin for a crazy night involving spandex tights, big hair, Irish pubs, something about walking around a whole lot, and everyone kind of getting lost--but really not. Blame it on the shots. It's always about the shots. Allons-y!

Pockets and Answers That Involve Jackets

I almost always wear a jacket of some sort. Most usually a blazer, or the longcoat during that week of the year here in Florida where it drops below 40 degrees and everyone in the state freaks out.

But why do I wear jackets?

Simple answer: I like the look.

Complex answer: I really like the look and because I like being warm. I carry a lot of things. I could use a man bag, but Orlando isn't a place that's probably ready for that yet. And not everything I carry cannot fit in a pair of jeans (that probably sounds like a double entendre, but I don't like the backspace key all that much, ergo, that sentence is staying in there). Plus, everything in my pockets goes into a specific place on my person, just out of habit, and because things are easier to find in pockets when you know where something is, and a zombie apocalypse is going on. So, what do I carry in my pockets?

No weapons. While many of the things in my pockets could possibly be McGyvered into weapons, I do not carry anything that could immediately be called a weapon. No knives, no guns, and no batons. I like firing guns, just not carrying them around.

Cell phone. Have to keep in touch with the world, obviously. That, and it serves as my secretary.

Cigarettes in a metal cigarette case. I'm a smoker. Carrying them in a metal case is much better than carrying them in the box they come in, and I can't break my cigs in any unfortunate incidents. Plus it just looks a bit classier and civilized.

Cig lighter. Once again, I'm a smoker. Must have. Making fire is something handy to fall back on when things get ridiculous. Or if there's a zombie apocalypse.

Matches. In case the lighter fails. And if there's a zombie apocalypse, the lighter will always fail.

Abreva. I'm paranoid. And while I don't get cold sores often, whenever I do, I'm cursing the world when I don't have Abreva immediately at hand.

Condoms. I am a bohemian hedonist at the core, but I'm no fool. Practicing safe sex is important. Like Abreva, having condoms handy is important, and I'm cursing the world if they're not immediately at hand.

Business cards. I like networking. Very important, and seeing as my quest in life is to escape Orlando involves finding a job in a more...metropolitan city, networking is key.

Notepad. Sometimes it's easier to write something down in a notepad than typing it into a phone's notebook app. Especially when alcohol is involved.

Pen. Gotta have something to write with, and the only people who have pens when I'm out aren't going to let me keep theirs (bartenders, waiters/waitresses, concierges, cops, lawyers, etc).

Guitar pick (sometimes). You never know when you're going to be jamming out on a guitar at an afterparty. Which has happened to me a few times. If I'm playing the guitar it's because the actual guitar player is passed out somewhere in an unfortunate position. Or fortunate. I mean, he is a guitar player. Ask John Mayer what happens when he picks up a guitar.

Paperclips (sometimes). I work in an office and always seem to end up with a few of them in my pockets. So I just decided to keep them in the pockets when I'm out and about.

Naughty dice. They're mostly a novelty gag, but I'm sure there's another reason I'm carrying them around. They glow in the dark. They also come in a velvet bag that's notoriously difficult to open.

Keys. With a key ring, and that's it. No keychains or anything. Too bulky.

Chapstick. I like not having chapped lips.

Gum or Listerine Breath Strips. I like having minty breath, and the world doesn't like funky breath.

Quarters. A least a few dollars worth. For billiards, darts, and that tempermental cigarette machine at Pine Street. Oh, and to hand to homeless people that I'm in no mood to speak to when I'm walking home.

Wallets. That's plural--I carry two wallets. Not because I have that much money (I bloody wish). One for cash (which I ironically almost never carry) and the other for plastic, library card, and license.

Digital camera. While the phone has a camera in it, the camera that I carry is of higher picture quality. I almost never get to use it. And when I do I forget to upload the pictures to Facebook. Which may or may not be a good thing. YMMV.