Not pictured: can of Lone Star, which tastes exactly like PBR
My stay in Austin, TX last week was much too short. In the brief moments between work, seeing my friends, and shoving barbecued meat into my mouth, this is what I took away from it. One night I went to three separate bars on 6th St. and they were all identical–small interior with a huge backyard full of picnic tables and a FOOD TRUCK. Being a still relatively recent resident of the NYC area, food trucks beyond the ubiquitous halal and pretzel vendors parked outside my office are still a little bit of a novelty for me. It takes a special kind of visionary to look at an old truck and think, “Yes, this shall be my traveling grilled cheese factory.” Genius.
Anyway, if you live in Austin and are under the age of 40 you most likely are in a band, ride a bike, and own at least one pair of Toms and a blue chambray shirt, which is worn buttoned up to the collar. You are either a vegetarian or a voracious, insatiable carnivore. You wear shorts or else risk death by heatstroke nine months out of the year. There is graffiti and retro-Western design all over everything, and no one is in a hurry. It is a strange, intriguing place and I’ll be back to report more as soon as possible.
“Keep Austin Weird” is written everywhere throughout the city. To find out if you’re weird enough for Austin, I suggest taking this highly scientific test to calculate your weirdness quotient. If your result is “turnips” that means you counted wrong, you probably forgot to carry the two.
Not pictured: can of Lone Star, which tastes exactly like PBR