Just a collection.
Nothing begat a nap more strongly than a “Straight Plate*” at Maudie’s, perfect punctuation to a hot spring mid-morning. Afternoon. Something.
*Three ground beef enchiladas, covered in cheese, onions and slathered with chili con carne, topped with two fried eggs – an arresting repast, in and of itself.
I wanted to avoid the crowds at the more popular spots, so I stopped in a Starbucks. After placing my order, the cashier commented on how nice my shirt looked.
“A girlfriend gave this to me,” I replied.
“She has good taste,” the Cancer cashier said.
“She tastes good, too,” I replied.
Comment garnered a squeal. Always trying to make the day a little more surreal.
I’ve worn that shirt for two hours in two days. It has a spot of BBQ sauce from Tuesday’s “dos carne” and spot of hot sauce from Maudie’s. When I get hungry again? I’ll just suck shirt**.
**Gratuitous Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas allusion.
Fish on!
(Like, dude, you know, “Surf’s up!” Or, “Incoming!”)
The biggest of half-dozen small fry. And half dozen neighbors stopped by. Each one said, “I’d like to see you catch a fish,” and then wandered off. Then I’d get a solid bite. I know, tiny doesn’t really count, but it beats, like, honest work and so forth.
And if the real fish get any bigger, they might try and eat a boat.
Austin gasoline price index. Back that up with a note about how walk-able Austin is and there’s some connection. I’m just not sure what.
