Failure of the Day: Asswipe, Texas

The stars at night might well be big and bright, but I wouldn’t know. Here in San Antonio, at night the sky is too full of screeching bats to see much of anything. Christ, everyplace other than what I’m used to is weird.

We’re here in glorious Someplace Or Other, Texas for a tradeshow that Chris is being forced to attend and that I was allowed to accompany him to. I’m telecommuting during the day and then spending the evenings trying to figure out when things are on TV in fucking Central Time. No big deal… it’s only the last episode ever of The O.C. tonight. GAH!

I tried some sightseeing last night and walked along a bit of the RiverWalk—it’s sort of a cross between the It’s a Small World ride and a really nice open sewer. They say there are bars and restaurants on the RiverWalk, but that could turn out to be one of those urban legends like the one about how birds don’t fly at night. On my way back I was swarmed by some kind of flying creatures that make a squawking sound. The bartender said they were birds but Chris says they had to have been bats.

My goals for this trip are to eat a lot of quesadillas and not see the Alamo. I am doing very well on both so far. My theory is that if I am to wander about Texas being as conspicuously Semitic as I am, I might as well bloat myself well into next week and mutter “Davy Crockett? FUCK Davy Crockett!” to all passersby.

Later tonight while Chris is enduring more salespeople telling him that the “secret” is to sell the thing for more than you bought it for, I will take a boat to San Antonio’s B-list mall and try to pass some time. Yes, we take boats to malls here. They call it the river taxi, which sounds more like a euphemism than a nickname, but I’m feeling bored and generous, so river taxi it is.

Wish me luck; we have 2 more days to go.