If you follow this one rule everything will fall into place. The locals will be more friendly, the tips you get will be better, and your overall experience will be greatly enhanced. This is the baseline for starting a good trip, whether it's a weekend excursion, a four day blow-out, a week long get away, or a half year escape from all responsibilities and decencies.
It must be remembered that everywhere you go while on vacation you are a guest, so act accordingly. This, not being a prick attitude, will be the difference between the locals wanting to show you, Traveler Joe/Jane, the hidden hot spots of the city, or eyeing the sketchy stranger suspiciously (that's you, prick) from across the bar.
And with the stage set, the story of the last night in Houston begins.
We (Dan, Eric, and myself) began our day in Houston by meeting with an old friend of mine, Sarah, at a delightful place called the Hobbit Cafe. It was an entirely J.R.R. Tolkien decorated hovel that had an incredibly cozy feel. We were joined by Sarah's own personal hobbit, which gave the cafe an even more authentic feel. It was delightful, it was fun, it made me appreciate parents (especially in public), and it was entirely unremarkable.
We said our farewells to Sarah and Frodo and headed on our way to explore the city. The day continued with a series of unremarkable events(of which I will remark upon in a section called 'Unremarkable Remarks'), and as the day dwindled we returned to Dan and Eric's Hotel to plan for our last night in Houston.
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| Bucky Badger standing regally above Houston. He was spread throughout the city; guiding us, watching over us, protecting us. |
After careful deliberation, we decided to find a bar near the hotel and make the best of it. We were searching for a near beer, if you will. I carefully selected an establishment by searching for 'bar' in google maps and off we went. I had apparently selected 'warehouse in the darkest, most murdery part of Houston' instead of 'bar', because that's where the cab took us. The cabbie was kind enough to allow us to remain in the cab and not get murdered. He suggested a local place called 'Cedar Creek' that he assured us was 'cool'. With such a stellar recommendation we were pumped and primed to hit the night.
The place turned out to be awesome. It was a very cool indoor/outdoor vibe with an actual creek (I'm assuming the Cedar Creek) flowing through the expansive outdoor seating area. It was a super friendly local spot (much respect kindly cabbie). It did not take us long to start schmoozing up the locals. With a smile on our faces and an alcohol fueled sociability we chatted up bartenders and patrons alike.
We met two local Houstonian mavens, who educated us about the inner workings and history of Houston. We learned, we laughed, we drank a lot of booze. During the chat I decided it was time to explore the rest of the establishment.
I moved 10 feet down the bar and chatted up two lady types. They were attractive, quite nice, and soon they had assimilated into our rag tag group of party people.
Fun is perhaps the most contagious condition that one can contract. If you are having fun, those around you will be drawn to you and vice versa. We were nice, we were having fun, and we were clearly from out of town.
The locals regaled us with stories of the bar, the neighborhood, and local drink specialties. I attribute this warmth to not being a prick, we were clearly fish out of water, but we embraced it, were respectful, and were having fun, so the Houstonians adopted us for the night.
One of the bartenders was kind enough to create an artistic rendition of our little group. However, it is of an adult rendition of our group, so in order to keep this post PG-13 it has been censored for inclusion.
At midnight the bar closed and we were invited to travel with our new companions to a local joint down the road. We shared stories, I saw a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tattoo, and we all made some Facebook friends. It was Facebook Officially a great end to a great trip to Houston.
We met two local Houstonian mavens, who educated us about the inner workings and history of Houston. We learned, we laughed, we drank a lot of booze. During the chat I decided it was time to explore the rest of the establishment.
I moved 10 feet down the bar and chatted up two lady types. They were attractive, quite nice, and soon they had assimilated into our rag tag group of party people.
Fun is perhaps the most contagious condition that one can contract. If you are having fun, those around you will be drawn to you and vice versa. We were nice, we were having fun, and we were clearly from out of town.
The locals regaled us with stories of the bar, the neighborhood, and local drink specialties. I attribute this warmth to not being a prick, we were clearly fish out of water, but we embraced it, were respectful, and were having fun, so the Houstonians adopted us for the night.
One of the bartenders was kind enough to create an artistic rendition of our little group. However, it is of an adult rendition of our group, so in order to keep this post PG-13 it has been censored for inclusion.
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| An artistic interpretation of our rag-tag group of party people by a Cedar Creek bartender/artist. |
At midnight the bar closed and we were invited to travel with our new companions to a local joint down the road. We shared stories, I saw a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tattoo, and we all made some Facebook friends. It was Facebook Officially a great end to a great trip to Houston.
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