Saturday Night Austin Experience
Today is a beautiful Sunday day: a glorious opportunity to go outside, take off all your clothes, and run wildly through the forest while shrieking at the top of your lungs to celebrate the beauty of nature. I am not posting, however, to delve into my Sunday habits; I am posting to discuss the events of what I would deem a rather successful Saturday night Austin adventure. My friend Perry and I decided to spend our Saturday night enjoying the fine pleasures that the personable, friendly city of Austin had to offer. Perhaps the source of the decision was that we usually spend this time basking in the radiation of our computer moniters, entertaining ourselves by talking with "18_hAwT_GrrL," a 43 year old trucker; discussing the merits of using object-oriented versus procedural programming; and crying in our rooms over our empty, empty lives. But whatever the case, once the decision was made, we loaded into the car and were off!
No one is really sure what happened next; the most coherent story that can be formed from the scattered testimony of witnesses is that Perry and I did end up where we wanted to go in Austin after a series of detours, killing a hooker, and a cry break in an alley. Once inside of the heart of the city, we went quick to work, looking for "Spiro's", a club that we knew allowed men of our season (underage) to enter. This probably took longer than it should have, but we eventually found it, and we watched for a few, uncomfortable moments a live band play; however, we were out of there the second the singer started to fall down off the stage, in what I am sure was an attempt to kill us. Next, we went to a cigar store, were attacked by a band of hobos, and browsed the various opportunities the nightlife afforded us. We eventually decided to check out the club "Paradox," which offered limitless fascination due to my near obsession with such logical flaws (This statement is false.); I understand now that I was just marking myself for disappointment. We found Paradox, but decided not to go inside: this decision was either spurred by the fact that there was a huge line; that we didn't want to front the cover; or that most of the club constituency was black. So we went ahead and took our impatient, cheap, or racist asses over to MoJo's on Guadalupe after waiting five hours to cross two streets in Perry's car. Below are a few pictures from MoJo's, which fortunately turned out ok, unlike the other ones taken during the course of the night; the band that played was introduced as "one of the best bands in America," but as you can probably tell from the top picture of me, I wasn't terribly impressed. Aftering finishing our beverages, browsing the various items, and listening to the band, we decided to head on home. Overall, I would say that the adventure was a brilliant success, and Perry and I agreed that we would have to do it again, although next time we will probably draft someone into coming with us who is more aware of what there is to do in Austin.
No one is really sure what happened next; the most coherent story that can be formed from the scattered testimony of witnesses is that Perry and I did end up where we wanted to go in Austin after a series of detours, killing a hooker, and a cry break in an alley. Once inside of the heart of the city, we went quick to work, looking for "Spiro's", a club that we knew allowed men of our season (underage) to enter. This probably took longer than it should have, but we eventually found it, and we watched for a few, uncomfortable moments a live band play; however, we were out of there the second the singer started to fall down off the stage, in what I am sure was an attempt to kill us. Next, we went to a cigar store, were attacked by a band of hobos, and browsed the various opportunities the nightlife afforded us. We eventually decided to check out the club "Paradox," which offered limitless fascination due to my near obsession with such logical flaws (This statement is false.); I understand now that I was just marking myself for disappointment. We found Paradox, but decided not to go inside: this decision was either spurred by the fact that there was a huge line; that we didn't want to front the cover; or that most of the club constituency was black. So we went ahead and took our impatient, cheap, or racist asses over to MoJo's on Guadalupe after waiting five hours to cross two streets in Perry's car. Below are a few pictures from MoJo's, which fortunately turned out ok, unlike the other ones taken during the course of the night; the band that played was introduced as "one of the best bands in America," but as you can probably tell from the top picture of me, I wasn't terribly impressed. Aftering finishing our beverages, browsing the various items, and listening to the band, we decided to head on home. Overall, I would say that the adventure was a brilliant success, and Perry and I agreed that we would have to do it again, although next time we will probably draft someone into coming with us who is more aware of what there is to do in Austin.
posted by Jonathan Starr at 3:03 PM
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