Leaving the majesty of Hamilton Pool behind, Andrew, Dave and myself headed over to The White Horse to retrieve my debit card. The White Horse is a staple for Austin locals because it is just so . . . Austin (ya'll). At night it has a motley crew of patrons boogeying down to music (usually of a country variety) and during the day there are always a few locals in carousing with their favorite mates and bartenders. This brings us to . . .
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| Picture of The White Horse's stage as seen through the eyes of Jack White. |
Place Number 3: The White Horse (during the day)
We arrived at The White Horse around 4 in the afternoon and were greeted by this scene: Two bartenders having a lively chat with an older gentlemen who was clearly a regular. One of the bartenders was Eric from the night before. He recognized me, we shared a cordial greeting and recounted the previous night's events.
Retelling #1: Cale's story.
The night at the White Horse was a lively one with people of all ages partaking in drink and honky-tonk with their friends both new and old. I moseyed up to the bar and had a chat with a young female type as we waited for our drinks. I heard the young lass tell the bartender that it was her birthday and this is where I stopped paying attention. Next to me was a 40 something couple who I had been talking with earlier in the night. We were mid chat when from behind I hear this exchange:
Birthday Girl, "Dude, it's my birthday. Can't I get a shot?"
Bartender (and possibly a lumberjack) Eric, "I'm not giving you a God damn shot, and you can get the fuck out of my bar!"
"Woah" thought me, "that escalated quickly."
Later when we were about to leave I asked another bartender for my card, but he was unable to find it, so I just left, vowing to recover it the subsequent night.
From the story I remembered that bartender Eric was a dickhole. However, the cordial bartender in front of me on this day and the retelling that he presented quickly made me change my mind about him and the state I was in the night prior.
Retelling #2 Eric's Story (as retold by me by exception).
Eric's story begins much the same as mine, except it wasn't a young female type that I was talking with at the bar, but a young long haired male type . . . The guy (apparently) did tell Eric that it was his birthday, but this dude was known at the bar for stirring up trouble and being an overall unpleasant Pete. When I averted my attention to the couple, the young man(?) would not stop asking for free drinks and shots in an incredibly belligerent manner.
It was at this point that I overheard the aforementioned conversation.
Given the new facts from the night before I am inclined to believe Eric's retelling. I told him the story as I remembered it and we all had a good laugh. Eric quickly found my card and returned it to me, which I immediately returned to him for a round a beers for myself and the Aussies. They each got a local Pearl Snap and I, being a stickler for the old school, ordered a Schlitz.
The old patron whom I alluded to at the beginning of the tale said he would pay for mine since I ordered a Schlitz. Turns out the guy was a local distributor and Schlitz was one of the beers he sold to the bar. Score! We talked about beers, especially the old guard of Hams, Shlitz, and Blatz, for a long time as Andrew and Dave explored the premises.
I emerged outside to find Dave and Andrew chilling on the outside patio next to a Taco truck. Dave had a helping of Austin trailer food from Bomb Tacos. It is near impossible to go wrong with food trucks in Texas, especially if they are parked on or near the premise of a great bar. The food will always, always be great.
Having accomplished our mission we decided to head back to the hostel to freshen up after our outdoor adventure at Hamilton Pool. I suggested dinner at one of my favorite places in Austin and another expertly hidden gem.
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| After you high five Bucky on your way into Lavaca Street Bar look immediately to your right. You will be greeted by this magical sight. |
Place Number 4: Surf and Turf - Best Fish Tacos and Bar food in Austin which is inside:
Place Number 5: Lavaca Street Bar: Service Industry Bar and Home of the Austin University of Wisconsin -Madison Alumni Association
Place Number 5: Lavaca Street Bar: Service Industry Bar and Home of the Austin University of Wisconsin -Madison Alumni Association
Surf and Turf is connected to and serves the food for Lavaca Street Bar. Lavaca Street Bar a shining example of a service industry bar in Austin. It always has great drink specials and is always full of bartenders, cooks, and servers from other places around Austin. It holds an extra special significance for me because it is the University of Wisconsin Alumni Bar. Every Saturday there is a huge Buckingham U. Badger outside that always brings a tear to my eye and a high to my five. It just so happens that Surf and Turf serves some of the best food in Austin. The fish tacos are the main attraction and they are out-fricking-standing. It is by far the best fish taco I have ever had the good fortune of eating.
Upon arriving I wrangle us up a round of $1 Tecates and move over to the restaurant to place an order. We sit, we drink, we talk about my plans for us the evening, and we wait for the food. The food arrives and the table goes silent, nothing but contented chewing. I ask the guys what they think to which Dave replies "This is the best meal I've had since I've been in America."
God damn right it is.
By the time we finish eating and slam down a few more Tecates it's getting close to sunset. I suggest we head to:
Place Number 6: Halcyon Cafe - Best Boozy coffee and people watching in downtown Austin.
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| Picture of one such weirdo that you will observe on 4th Street. |
As the day turns to night we watched the menagerie of people scuttle, swagger, and saunter by in all their different types of attire. We carefully formulate a plan for the evening that begins at one of the best cocktail bars in Austin (Peché) and move generally back towards The White Horse. However, that will be a tale for next week, chock full of snotty bartenders, garage bars, and bluegrass boogeying back at The White Horse.
Before I conclude . . .
The Moral of the Story: People aren't rude, we imagine it dude.
I feel that most slights that I have experienced have really just been products of my imagination. The daytime interaction with jovial bartender Eric showed me that he wasn't an uptight hipsterjack, but instead a bartender doing his job. I have a theory as to why our brains automatically make these snap judgments. In order to make myself sound smart I will call this theory: The Theory of the Evolutionary Remainder (as told from a soap box).
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| It's not for everyone, but those who really get what cereal is trying to do will like it. |
There was once a time where people were cold, hungry, and fighting for their lives against all comers. In this state of nature it is better to be alive than to be curious (we all know what happened to the cat, am I right?). A hint of danger, or an awkward/unfamiliar situation in this state is one to be avoided, for safety. Eventually, people banded together, humans created a buffer against the raw natural world, and laws governing interactions between people became enforceable. Therefore today, I don't think about getting mauled by a bobcat or bludgeoned by a random passerby as I walk down the street. However, mankind has honed this survival instinct for so long that is still prevalent in us. Today, it is possible to be mortally afraid without actually being in danger. The fear is still real, but it's no longer directed towards anything substantial. I would also postulate that we feel more mortal fear today than our ancestors precisely because of the product that keeps us safe. Society creates safety, which allows for people to live closer, which allows for more opportunities to feel awkward, which creates more opportunity for this survival fear to manifest.
This fear is now a negative. Today sociability is such an integral part of our life that anything that hinders it is a negative, a huge negative. However, our brain needs to focus this survival fear on something so we don't become paranoid schizophrenic wrecks. Thus the people around us become the convenient scapegoats.
That's my theory based on my own experience and no research. Has someone else already thought of it? I don't care. it's called the Evolutionary Remainder, because I said so.
Now that I've descended from my soap box, I believe that Austin is the methadone for this fear addiction. People in Austin are so nice and outgoing, that beginning to see them as rude is so incongruous with reality that it makes you reconsider your entire world view.
Ipso facto Austin makes you a better person.
