I awoke in the Omni hotel by a text from Sam saying he was in the café. I wandered down while Max slept, and there Sam and I talked about how sometimes we felt like the world is ending when we put our minds into a state of vulnerability and then things go to shit. True then, very true now.
Eventually the three of us checked out, and grabbed a bottle full of Agua Fresca (muy fruit-tastic) from the lobby. We took the van to a Firestone to get the bad tire patched and put back on. We then traveled into East Austin and had the greatest tacos on Earth from a cart on E 6th Street.
After an iced coffee, we went to Barton Springs and had a swim. We felt like chumps for paying because we saw a free spot right near the pay-to-swim pool. But we can’t unring a bell, so we swam – poorly. The whole place really was more populated than these sexy pictures might lead on:
After a little basking in the sun, we sallied forth to a post office, a few shops on South Congress (which I thought sucked, check out the pictures, and if you see Max, guess what he’s doing in exhibit A):
Then the we headed to San Antonio. It was only a little over an hour. The city looked fairly decent heading in. Down on the street, it was a little less flattering. We showed up at the venue – Night Rockers Live. The man at the venue seemed utterly perplexed at there being any show at all there that night. But, weirdly enough, he seemed down for it. He just wanted to talk to our booker after he went and got some “supplies” (i.e. cigarettes; car took a shit that morning). We got a hold of Nate and found out that the show had een moved. Apparently I’d been sent something about this (I found it later while digging through texts). The Night Rockers Live guy was humored and relieved.
The new venue was Korova and we headed over there. It was a big empty room right near downtown; basically in downtown; and the people there had the band soundcheck. We had a hotel and they gave us directions (which proved to be confusing). We checked in and the guy at the desk mentioned that Rammstein was coming through soon. I almost felt a pang of sadness to be missing it. He also mentioned a good Mexican restaurant being in the middle of downtown, which wasn’t too far away.
We drove there, and I’m pretty sure it was closed. But we found another Mexican place nearby called El Mariachi. It was like something out of a dream. The food was pricey, and I should have gotten what they got, but I was too cowardly to conform, so mole it was.
We returned to the venue and watched the two opening bands of metal Monday in San Antonio. The crowd was made up of about seven people – either band members or band girlfriends – in a room that could have fit maybe 600 people (and had probably never been filled before). I didn’t understand why one of them rammed home the fact that Pantera was from Texas before they covered Pantera. Whatever. There was one guy who’d driven from Austin to see the show. I asked if he’d caught the Austin show too and he said he hadn’t, which I thought was strange; he had a reason I can’t remember.
It was a lonely, lonely night, and in that space, I lost a little piece of my mind. The despair wasn’t lost on the boys either, as Max demonstrated when he rapped his way through “Organ Donor Song.” He would not have done it unless he was staring deeply into the abyss. The show was over, and two enthusiastic fans sidled their wobbling asses to the door with nary a glance towards my money making machine. The house speakers blasted Alice In Chains as we loaded out, and, done with our wretched night, we finally hit the hotel. We had but a few hours before our long drive to New Mexico just ahead. I slept on the floor… Sam was bedded.
-for part of Monday May 7th, 2012