Deep in the Liver of Texas

When I got to San Antonio, what do you know...there were two girls there waiting to get me drunk.  Once the three of us came to the consensus that driving back to Whit's place in New Braunfels only to turn around and head back to San Antonio was stupid, we decided the next best option was to drink there, so it was straight to the Riverwalk for a little taste of Texas.  I opted for a chopped brisket sandwich and chose to close it out with a couple Shiner Bocks and a Lone Star.  From there, we still had some time to kill before I had to be back at the hotel, so we wandered for a bit and landed at Pat O'Brien's, a New Orleans style bar right off the River.  What do you get when you put the three of us in a New Orleans bar?  Three hurricanes, of course!  How else was I going to deal with a wedding rehearsal?

Whit and Katie picked me up after the rehearsal dinner, and we headed back to New Braunfels where I got my first look at what would become the party house for the weekend.  We changed and began the trek toward Austin.

Say what you will about Texas being...well...Texas and being full of Texans ridiculous people, but I defy you to find a better bar scene than Sixth Street in Austin.  I can only imagine what a debacle that place would be when school is in session.  Going to have to figure it out and get back down there to visit when that happens.  Additionally, prices of adult beverages in Texas are much more palatable than those here in SoCal.  Draw your own conclusions on how this thing went.  I don't remember too many details of it.  I just remember posing for some pics with Katie that I'm sure will end up on facebook and two-stepping with Whit in a bar.

What do you do after a night of drinking?  Let's go to the phones, Johnny!  First up was my brother, on whom Katie put the full court press to try to get him to come down to Texas...the next day.  Clearly this was not going to happen, but she was convinced that she could change his mind.  It was a valiant effort, but it was ultimately unsuccessful.  Then came the best drunk dial ever.  Short.  Sweet.  Straight to voicemail...Grant.  I was in the back seat and held my phone up between the seats so everyone could say hi, which is exactly what Katie did.  Whit, however, took a little different route.  Grant had to piece this one together for me a couple days later, but what he heard on the other end of the line was Whit saying, "Mississippi...I don't know you, but I would like to get to," which, of course, elicited a "Proooooooooooooove iiiiiiiiiiiiiiit" from me in the back seat.  Then I hung up.  Amazing.

The capper for the night, though, was something my roommate will appreciate--Whataburger.  For most of y'all (yes, that is a y'all) who read this, Whataburger is not a late night drunk food option since you, like me, are located in the Pacific time zone.  This is better than Del Taco.  This is the Texas version of Tommy's.  It's not drenched in chili, so it's a different animal, but it is definitely that quality of drunk food.  Open 24 and very drunk-friendly.  (Of course!  It's in Texas!)

Saturday morning/early afternoon saw the brief warmup float down the Comal River referenced in the previous entry.  The party house is walking distance from the river, and with a 15 minute walk, we got in at the beginning.  My first float was pretty solid....got through the chute with my hat and glasses intact and without losing my beer.  Not bad for a river rookie.  Once we got to the river exit by Whit's house, it was time for me to bail and get ready for the wedding.

As it turned out, the best way for me to get to the wedding on time and keep all party house guests happy was to take Whit's car, which turned out to be key to life.  (See Julie references in previous blog entry.)  However, it also caused me not to get back to the party house until after 5 a.m., meaning everyone was asleep, and I had to call Whit multiple times to be let into the house.  Oh well.

What do you do later in the morning after you've just gotten back at 5?  Of course, you get up a few hours later and get ready for another day of drunken debauchery.  This day, though, the river to be floated was the Guadalupe.  This would be the source of the various gashes on my feet and legs (I wiped out hardcore on the first rapid) along with the atomic sunburn that I apparently couldn't feel because I'd had too many Lone Star Lights.  This is also, however, where the group really expanded.  I have a slew of new facebook friends (big shout outs to Becky, Megan, Tim, Tom, Jenn, etc.).  Once you share beer, river junk food, rocks and rapids with a group of people, seeking them out on facebook doesn't seem nearly as weird.

Those who were staying around headed back to Whit's house for some burgers grilled expertly by the brawl tandem efforts of Whit and me.  Sided up with some H-E-B macaroni and cheese and some potato salad along with an outdoor setting, they made a great dinner for along with our post-river drinking.  Not too long after that, we passed out.  Weird.

Aaaaaaaanyway, the next morning saw a Whataburger breakfast run and my introduction to their breakfast taquitos.  Now, I am very disappointed that we don't have this fine establishment on the west coast.  It's a tortilla with egg, cheese and sausage wrapped tightly into, shockingly, a taquito.  There are no words to describe how great this was on that particular morning.  Nonetheless, the traveling contingent left, and it was down to Whit and me.

Since I'd checked into my flight the night before, all that was left was to pack my stuff up and get ready to go.  Since we had time, Whit took me for "real" Texas barbecue.  (Apparently what I'd had before was fake...who knew?)  Whatever the difference was, it was amazing.  Rudy's was what you would expect out of a BBQ place in Texas with license plates and neon lights all over the walls and where you order your meat by the pound and they hand you some white bread.  The rest is up to you.  There is a salad bar looking thing with pickles and peppers.  I crushed a half pound of brisket, five slices of bread and a lot of pickles.

I closed out the weekend by replacing the string on Whit's guitar (that had broken earlier when I was trying to tune it for her).  After that, it was time to head to teh airport, where I cleared security in about 15 minutes (take notes, LAX), checked my e-mail on the free airport WiFi (take notes, LAX) and boarded my flight back to reality.

The checklist I received from Sarah (who, no doubt, cringed at the very reference of pickles in this post) will be addressed in a subsequent post.  It's legit.  Check back soon.