Everything's bigger

People often claim that Austin isn't really Texas. While there's certainly an argument to be made here, as I only met one person in Austin who wasn't born and raised outside of Texas, its still the only place I've ever been to where a college boy's told me that I had "a big purty smile" by way of a compliment. Also, just because its megachurches try to reach a younger audience doesn't make them any less creepy:

The gospel according to LOST? That only raises more questions.

Then there's the Southern hospitality. At least, I think that's what it is; I haven't explored enough of the South to be sure. In my limited experience, I've found that when I've tried to strike up a conversation with a clerk who wasn't busy at a store in Austin, they've always been very friendly and talkative up until a point. Then suddenly there's this cool indifference that surprises me, as a clerk in Burlington would've continued talking to me for an hour before inviting me to a potluck while a clerk in Boston would've just made guarded small-talk until they were 100% sure that I wasn't a sociopath or a saleslady (this fear is usually only dissuaded by becoming a regular costumer). If what I've noticed in Austin is indeed Southern hospitality, than I'd argue that Austin could not exist outside of Texas, no more than any other hippie sanctuary could exist outside of its state. Places like Austin and Boulder and Asheville might vote the same way, but they're each defined by their Texasness or Coloradoness or North Carolinaness. And no, I don't care that those aren't words.

On Wednesday March 10th, my hosts and I saw Cop Out at one of the Alamo Drafthouses. Being served dinner and drinks in a movie theater more than made up for enduring Kevin Smith's latest shit stain (seriously, it was like a charming 80's buddy comedy without the charm). Before the previews, they played trailers for old buddy comedies and black-and-white clips of a young Bruce Willis. I had about a million movie-geekgasms; I don't understand why these drafthouses aren't a nation-wide chain.

The next night my hosts took me out for pizza in downtown Austin, which we briefly explored while waiting for our order. Most of the shops were closed, but we found a candy store that was decorated with circus memorabilia and steam-punk creations:

My view while purchasing candy.

When we returned for our pizza, I had to get a picture of the store next to the pizza place:

Gay sex counts as a "provision," right?

On the morning of Friday March 12th, my hosts and I ate incredibly delicious migas breakfast tacos for $1.50 each. Almost everyone needed to head to work after that, so the one fellow remaining kindly drove me to the Amtrak station. This required passing by the recently destroyed IRS building for the fourth time during my stay:

Sorry to end on a somewhat somber note, but my travels to New Mexico are the subject of my next post.