8 July, 2016 § 1 Comment
There are people who say all cops are scum, and I think those people are misguided. But it’s their responsibility to police themselves just as they police us, and the more we see cops getting temporary suspensions and paid leaves instead of jail time and indictments after committing murder, the more disheartened we (and especially the black community) become.
Last night’s violence was bred from violence. Does that justify it? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Had last night’s killers targeted and murdered the same cops who murdered Alton Sterling and Philando Castile in days prior, their actions still would not have been justified.
Violent problems do not require violent solutions.
I don’t call all cops murderers, but there’s a huge problem with the institution as a whole when murderous cops aren’t held accountable for their actions in the same way as, say, a black person with a broken taillight would be.
Nobody is contesting that all lives matter. The BLM movement is one born in response to institutionalized violence and racism and injustice; it’s by no means an unworthy cause and it’s not a violent one, nor is it one to ignore or slap aside with disparaging statements like “no, ALL lives matter.” BLM are not saying all lives don’t matter, or that theirs matter more. They’re reminding us that they matter in the first place. Shrugging them off isn’t helpful. They’re hurting, and we need to acknowledge that.
Who do I blame for last night’s violence? The shooters, first and foremost. Senseless violence and murder is never appropriate. I blame people who, by saying “all lives matter” in response to a genuine and heartfelt movement, really seem to be saying “black lives don’t matter.” This is the fuel that has been feeding the flames that erupted last night for so many years. Thirdly I blame police departments that hire and train people who would abuse their power — who would use their power in cruel manners, who demand respect they have yet to earn and neglect to offer in return, and who would kill people who may not have been innocent of all wrongdoing, but who deserve due process just the same as the rest of us. I blame these particular police officers especially, who are then granted the due process they refused to grant in the first place and who are absolved of their crimes at an alarming rate.
I don’t blame the BLM movement for the slaying of five Dallas officers last night any more than I blame those five officers or the others who were shot for the slaying of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile.
I still don’t feel like my words have helped express my feelings truly. I’m hurting. Families are hurting. My city is hurting. The country is hurting. We’re broken.
3 September, 2015 § Leave a comment
8/26/15 Wednesday morning, 6:30a.
My alarm goes off, just like it did at this time on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. Nothing’s different. I still get out of bed, find some clean clothes to throw on, and pack a quick lunch before heading off to work. Nicole was gone by the time I woke up. She gets up about an hour before I do and usually I wake up just long enough to kiss her before she’s out the door. Today was no different.
I got to work and established that my partner would be driving today. I’d driven the last time we were paired up and besides, I’d be driving again later anyway. Best not to wear myself out this early. Work wasn’t anything special today; just the usual stuff. I won’t go into boring details because if all I had to talk about was work, I wouldn’t have started this post in the first place.
At seven o’clock it was time to go home. I got in my car, rolled down my window, turned up the volume on the radio, and drove. Traffic wasn’t bad. It rarely is at this time in the evening. I was home twenty minutes later. Nicole was home already, but just barely, as she had worked several extra hours today. We were both tired and hungry, and I still had the stink of the day all over me. Plus, there was work to be done. I showered, re-dressed, made my hair pretty, and then got to packing.
After I had chosen enough clothes to last me nearer to a week away from home, I left them on the bed while Nicole worked out what she wanted to bring along. I set to the task of loading up the car. A tent, tarp, sleeping bags, and other assorted camping gear, even though at this point we still had no idea where in the hell we were going. We had some ideas, sure, but to be honest we just hadn’t thought about it all that much. Quite frankly, where we ended up wasn’t terribly important. It was the journey we lusted for. The adventure. The drive, man, the drive.
By 8:35p the car was loaded, we had what we figured was everything, or at least good enough, and we hit the road. We were hungry, but we decided against having a proper meal Wednesday night and opted instead for a can of Pringles and some beef jerky we picked up from a travel center in Jolly, TX around 10:20p. And from there, we just kept driving. The original plan — as if you can say we really had a plan to begin with — was to drive through the night and maybe stop in the morning. That turned out to be unrealistic, as you might imagine, and so just after midnight when we reached Childress, TX we decided to stop for a bit and regenerate. We found an American Inn & Suites that wasn’t going to overcharge us for only a few hours of sleep, and agreed to call it a night.
8/27/15 Thursday, 5:55a.
After what was little more than a quick nap for either of us we got out of bed, showered and made our hair pretty for the last time in days, brushed our teeth, took what little we had brought into the hotel room with us back out to the car, found a gas station down the road where we grabbed a couple cups of coffee, and took off. We passed through Memphis, TX early in the morning, paused at a rest stop east of Amarillo for a few minutes, and then at about 8:00a we passed a big sign for a world famous breakfast buffet or something like that, so we doubled back to stop at the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo for a meal. The Big Texan is known for their 72oz steak which, if you manage to eat it in under an hour, is free. We weren’t interested in anything of the sort and besides, I don’t think that’s something they offer at eight o’clock in the morning, so we tried out that famous breakfast buffet and after a quick jaunt through the gift shop connected to the restaraunt and a fill-up at a gas station down the road, we were back on the road by 9:20a.
Of course that didn’t last terribly long, as the famous Cadillac Ranch was located just outside of Amarillo proper, so at 9:30a we stopped to admire the many tons of steel planted firmly in the ground, covered with years’ worth of spray painted graffiti. We added a bit of our own graffiti from what we could find left over in the dozens of abandoned cans of spray paint littering the dirt around the Cadillacs. I managed to firmly plant my canvas Converse-clad right foot into a deep puddle of mud during this stop, which resulted in my making most of the rest of the drive with one foot — my driving foot, of course — bare, while my cleaned-but-now-soaking-wet sneaker sat on the floor of the car behind the driver’s seat.
It was just before ten o’clock when we left the Cadillac Ranch, and during this leg of our journey we crossed into the Mountain time zone, so when we stopped at a rest area just south of Des Moines, NM (did you know there’s a Des Moines, NM? I didn’t) two and a half hours later, it was now only 11:25a local time. Just before noon, we stopped at the base of the extinct Capulin Volcano in Capulin, New Mexico. After purchasing our park entry tickets and after I changed into a pair of hiking boots that really clashed with the cargo shorts I was wearing, we drove to the top of the volcano, gave that beast a partial rimjob on foot, snapped a few pictures of a deer, and then got back in the car and hit the Colorado state line at just about 1:00p.
We hit a rest area in Colorado City at about two, and then at quarter of three we stopped at a King Soopers in Pueblo to stock up on supplies of the food and beverage nature. We still didn’t know for sure where we were going from here, but by now we had decided on, roughly, “something west.” We had up until now considered finding a place to camp in Pueblo, but upon entering the city and finding it to be generally mountainless while we had been hoping for something a bit more mountainful, we agreed that the mountains to the west looked rather inviting. With Nicole now vigorously researching potential camping sites in the Cañon City area I drove, drove, drove. We poo-pooed a few ideas found during the research, straight up determined one of them didn’t even exist anymore when we tried to find it, and agreed to check out one of the first places she’d read about, which could be found only after navigating through some private property off the beaten path and up a treacherous winding dirt mountain road riddled with potholes, rocks, and even small bridgeless streams.
Just before 5:00p we reached the Grape Creek Picnic Ground at the top of one of many small peaks located within Temple Cañon Park, and so we stopped driving. We were alone and without wifi. The air was clean, the annoying-but-otherwise-non-biting insects were plenty, and we were worn the hell out.
We layed down our tarp, pitched our tent, got our flashlights ready, gathered some firewood, explored our secluded area for a bit, put the lantern together and set up the cook top, and quite suddenly realized we had forgotten to bring along any sort of fire-lighting implement. I attempted using a small mirror Nicole had to reflect sunlight onto some kindling to no avail, took one for the team and chugged a beer to see if a concentrated point of sunlight through the empty bottle would ignite the kindling, and as the sun began to disappear behind a mountain and I chugged another beer for science, we resolved ourselves to the fact that we just wouldn’t have fire tonight. So we made sandwiches and went to bed. Though it rained a bit shortly after we set up camp, the rain had dwindled off and ended by the time we closed ourselves up in the tent. Midway through the night, we removed the tarp covering the top of the tent to reveal clear skies.
8/28/15 Friday, sunrise.
We woke up, got dressed, brushed our teeth (who needs running water anyway), took the car down to the Grape Creek our campsite was named after and admired the view, took the path around the Royal Gorge back out to Cañon City twenty miles away, and loaded up on the necessities: two small Bic lighters, a decent bundle of firewood, a fresh bag of ice for the cooler, a full tank of gas for the car, and two cups of hot coffee. By 8:30a we were back at the top of our mountain, alone once again and still without wifi.
Now armed with fire, we used our portable cook top to make a pot of hot coffee, one metric ton of bacon, four eggs, and two slices of toast. Breakfast is somehow better than usual when made in the wilderness at the top of a mountain. After breakfast, we changed into our hiking shoes (I had been wearing my now-dry Converse up until this point) and spent the next couple hours further exploring our mountain top, and found our way over to the nearest peak where we knew some other people had set up camp the night before. Rather than intruding on their campsite, since that’s just rude, we kept walking. Further along the dirt road we walked, occasionally straying off the road and into the wilderness just to see where we ended up, doubling back when we hit a dead end or impassable trail. Eventually we made our way to the Temple Cañon Park north entrance (we had found our way in at the south entrance) whereupon we turned around and slowly but surely made our way back to camp.
Around noon we went back down to the Grape Creek, this time wearing our bathing suits and water shoes, and with our Camelbak backpacks filled with water and strapped to our backs. For the next three hours we explored the creek on foot, walking over the smooth stones that lined the bed of the creek, down the flattened deer trails that followed along the side of the creek, swimming when the water got deep, scaling cliff walls when something at the top looked neat, falling, scraping knees and shins, bruising the bottoms of our feet, sweating, laughing, taking photographs, and really just getting a nice workout in general. Once dry, we went back up to our camp site and after relaxing for a bit and rinsing out some of the creek muck from our hair with the clean water we were thoughtful enough to bring with us, we took a nap.
Friday, being our only full day in Colorado, we decided to spend it relaxing in and around our camp site. Other than our emergency trip to Cañon City for some fire, we stuck firmly to that decision. After our nap, we started a fire in our firepit, snacked on some snacks, had some drinks, put a David Cross comedy special in the car stereo, and just lazed about. Sometime probably around 5:30p (this is just an estimate; on the mountain, we managed to successfully lose track of time) a couple drove their blue pickup truck to the top of our mountain and parked by the second pavilion. Technically, there were two pavilions up there and as we were only using one, the other was open and available for other potential campers. They didn’t unpack anything; they just sat in the bed of the truck and seemed to be having a fun conversation. They ignored us, and we ignored them.
Unfortunately the Coleman lantern we had brought was faulty. By faulty, I mean I surely put it together improperly or burned the mantles too much in trying to figure out how it worked to the point where it became inoperable. In any case, our only sources of light now were the campfire and the flashlights we had brought along. Nicole got some baked beans going on the cooktop while I roasted weenies over the campfire. Though I roasted my own weenies wrapped in bacon left over from breakfast, she preferred hers unwrapped. The bacon added a new level of flavor but was otherwise nothing terribly special and it was a bit of a hassle to keep wrapped around the weenie while they roasted.
Probably two hours after they arrived, our visitors got back into their pickup truck and left, never to return — at least, not while we were still there. Not long after they left, the rain began again. It seemed the rain would come in suddenly, drizzle inconveniently for a short time while around us we saw lightning and heard thunder, and then it would dwindle away and the clouds would disappear. It was much the same our second night on the mountaintop as it was the first. The full moon really enhanced the experience of staring at the clear night sky without all the light pollution we see here at home in north Texas. It was something amazing, for sure. I don’t know how long we lasted Friday night, because neither of us remembers an end to the idle conversation we were having in our tent while staring through the mesh top at the star-riddled night sky before passing out.
8/29/15 Saturday, sunrise.
Once again, a bit of light breaking through the tent was our prompt to open our eyes and get the morning started. We knew we would be driving nearly all day today and wanted to get an early start since there were still sights to see along our way home. We opted to eschew breakfast today, and instead spent roughly an hour breaking down our campsite and packing everything back into the car. By quarter after seven we had vacated our mountaintop at the Grape Creek Picnic Ground and then we drove the rocky winding treacherous road back down the mountain and waved goodbye to Temple Cañon Park and headed back toward town.
This time, “town” was somewhere between Temple Cañon Park and Cañon City. We stopped for a really nice breakfast (and, oh god, so much coffee) at the Royal Gorge Country Cafe. Rather than completing the circle around the gorge on our way back to Cañon City, we decided to see what the gorge was all about, once and for all. After breakfast we followed County Road 3a four miles down the road where it ended at the Royal Gorge, a split through the state of Colorado created by the Arkansas River over millions of years. Shortly after nine o’clock we exited the car and made the trek across the appropriately-named Royal Gorge Bridge, a 1,260-foot-long bridge also known as the world’s highest suspension bridge, spanning the river and gorge at a breathtaking 1,053 feet in the air. We took several photographs along the way as we crossed the bridge on foot twice, played around and purchased souvenirs in the gift shop, and then hit the road once more by quarter after ten.
Around 12:45p we reached the ghost town of Ludlow, Colorado. This was the site of the famous Ludlow Massacre in 1914, an event which resulted in the killing of two wives and eleven children of coal miners at the hands of the national guard and the Rockefellers, prompting huge changes in labor and union rights across the country. The ghost town itself was located on the other side of a fence marked “private property,” in a field crawling with prairie dogs and chipmunks. I crossed the fence anyway, and took several pictures on the inside of the abandoned Ludlow general store. Ludlow itself was a company town owned by the mining company. The other buildings were too dilapitated for me to attempt entry. After spending a short time inside the general store we turned the car around and headed back.
By 1:30p we were ready for lunch, so we found a restaurant just south of Trinidad, CO called Tequila’s. The food was wonderful and the margaritas were good, but an hour later we were stuffed and we still had a hell of a drive ahead of us, so we hit the road again. After crossing back into New Mexico, we apparently missed a turn off in Raton and ended up driving twenty miles south toward Maxwell, NM before finding a place to turn on the highway and head back to Raton, where we topped off the gas tank and got back on the right track. Our next stop would be near the Cadillac Ranch west of Amarillo to top off the gas tank again, as you can never be too safe. We were about to hit a stretch of road between Amarillo and Dallas, after all, where there would be next to nothing in the way of gas stations. Back in the Central time zone, it was now a quarter after 7:00p.
Five and a half long hours later, driving through swaths of nothingness in west Texas in the dark, and without stopping, we were home. Strung out from the road, we stripped what we had to out of the car and either brought it inside or left it in the garage, took an amazing shower for the first time since early Thursday morning before the sun even came up, and passed out in bed.
Five or so hours later, my alarm went off and I went to work.
4 September, 2014 § Leave a comment
Oh, hey there, I didn’t see you.
My name is Dave. I’m a 28-year-old man and I save animals for a living. I live with my amazing girlfriend and her son in a fancy Dallas suburb and — oh wait, let me back up a little bit.
Last year, around Easter time, Holly and I separated. I won’t get into specifics but it wasn’t an ugly separation. We lived together a while longer, but divorced almost a year ago to the day. We have each gone our separate ways since then. Freyja and Odin are with her, while Loki and Sherlock are with me. Oh wait, let me back up a little bit.
Loki actually joined our household before my last post here on FHF, but it was toward the end of 2012 so he only made it into that post twice by way of a couple adorable-as-fuck pictures. In case you don’t remember, he’s a cat and he just turned two years old three days ago. Sherlock joined us on January 8th. He’s a big, stupid, fluffy, sweet, black dog and during the first couple months of our separation he’s the one who kept me sane. I actually brought another dog home from work; her name was Trillian. Unfortunately after the divorce and after moving out I had to find a new home for her. She’s a cattle dog so I’m sure her new home out in the country is far more suitable for her.
Anyway, the divorce happened last September but it wasn’t until relatively recently (within the last six months) that we moved out of the house we bought mid-2012. I can’t speak for her, but I’m pretty sure we’re both a lot happier now than we were toward the end of our marriage, and we’re both better off.
So that’s what happened to all the things you, my six or seven fans, knew was going on. Since then I’ve met Nicole, we’ve traveled together, we’ve fallen in love, we’ve moved in together, we’ve combined our families (my cat and dog plus her dog and her son), and we’ve been incredibly supportive of one another through some pretty trying times.
Tonight my family is coming over for dinner. They’ve all met each other, but we’ll get to finally meet my brother’s girlfriend and her kid while watching the Green Bay Packers’ season opener and grilling brats. Tomorrow we’re heading out of town to visit Fredericksburg before I begin my new job on Monday. New job’s the same as the old one, but in a more convenient location and for considerably better pay.
Pardon my tardiness. A lot’s been going on. Oh, but I saw the new Ninja Turtles movie and y’know what? I sort of enjoyed it.
1 January, 2013 § 1 Comment
In the year 2012, I made at least one post on Facebook [almost] every day. Twenty-twelve was a big year for Holly and me, and just an important year all around. Encyclopedia Britannica stopped publishing print editions. Venus transited across the sun for the last time until 2117, which means if you didn’t see it this time (or eight years ago) you almost certainly never will. My dad had an important surgery, followed almost immediately by a heart attack (he’s okay now). Holly and I bought a house. There were some huge discoveries and accomplishments made by the scientific community. Not too long after I talked Michael Bay out of rebooting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the third film in Christopher Nolan’s Batman series came out, which coincided with the largest mass shooting in United States history. Chick-Fil-A sparked a huge debate that had nothing to do with freedom of speech but everything to do with discrimination. Impressive records were broken and made at the Olympics in London. Hurricane Sandy ravaged the Jersey Shore (which was cancelled, by the way). I scored my dream job, which has nothing to do with Disney purchasing LucasFilms and promising three more Star Wars movies. President Obama was reaffirmed as the people’s choice and Mitt Romney faded into the background. “Johnny Football” Manziel of Texas A&M became the first freshman to ever be awarded the Heisman trophy. Another tragic shooting left twenty children dead, and the NRA made it obvious how much they hate the idea of creating a police state by suggesting we create a police state. It was all pretty crazy, but at least the world didn’t end!
But you’d probably have no idea based on the inanity of the vast majority of my posts, which you are about to read.
These were the right socks to welcome 2012 with.
2 September, 2012 § Leave a comment
It was late morning, Saturday. All our bags were packed and we were ready to go.
Pete, Dave, Kyle C., Lauren, Rob, Travis,
Meredith, Jess, Mark, Joni, Deanna,
Jeremy (Preach), Britt, Hillary,
Becky (Becca, Rebecca, etc.), Cody, Chris, Jared, Will
We left at about 11:20, Saturday morning. Our car (Myself, Pete, Lauren, and Kyle C.) was the last to leave because we had to wait for Pete and Lauren and considering Pete was our driver, we couldn’t take off without him. I’d tell you who was in each of the other cars, but frankly, I can’t remember anyone aside from the drivers (Preach, Travis, and Chris). In any case, once Pete and Lauren arrived, we threw what little we were bringing along in the trunk and piled into Pete’s car (Lauren in the passenger seat, myself and Kyle C. in the back seat, the driver… well, Pete). We gave Carl a call and told him since he was late he could just meet us in Del Rio since we weren’t planning on stopping anywhere on the way aside from a gas station. As it turns out, Carl was unaware that he was a designated driver for the day and got pissed off and hung up on Kyle C. So we didn’t see Carl this weekend. Alas, we left the campus.
Things started out a little rocky considering the route we ended up taking was not quite the same as the route that MapQuest.com had given us. We took a couple wrong turns before we ever left College Station. That alone and the other major wrong turn just outside College Station (the one where we turned down the wrong road and followed it about ten miles before realizing we shouldn’t have), along with the fact that we left about ten minutes after everyone else, threw us way behind everyone in the first half hour of our trip. It was okay, though, because Pete likes to drive very fast so we knew we’d catch up with the convoy eventually.
We were finally on the same road as everyone else (and, fortunately, the same road MapQuest.com told us to be on by this point) so we started driving leisurely. We stopped for gas somewhere along 21 outside of Austin and spent five dollars on three gallons of gas (we weren’t willing to spend so much on a full tank, but it was the only gas station we could find). We drove until we found a Shell station, where I allowed Pete to use my gas card, which also allowed me time for a cigarette. Once the tank was full, we took off. Shortly thereafter, we took another wrong turn so we had to turn around. About five miles down the road, we realized that our “wrong turn” was actually the right one so we turned once again, therefore throwing us back another ten miles from everyone else.
We didn’t stop the car again until we were driving through San Antonio. Lauren had to pee, so we got off 35 and found a Chic-Fil-A for her to pee in. Once done, we found our way back to the highway. Very shortly thereafter, a gray Chevy pickup in front of us kicked up a huge chunk of the road or something and threw it into Pete’s car. We stopped on the side of the highway and got out to see what damage had been done. Before we even saw anything, a man in a Ferrari pulled over in front of us to help with whatever had happened. On the front right column, there were two huge gashes in the car caused by whatever had hit us. Pete threw his arms in the air, cursing as loudly as he could. We let him curse for a while as we climbed back in. Once the man in the Ferrari saw us getting back in the car he drove off. Pete finally got back in the car and took off. There was a long moment of silence in the car that wasn’t broken until we accidentally exited the highway and somehow got ourselves lost in a maze of highways and biways in downtown San Antonio. Ten to fifteen minutes later, we were back on the highway and again, even further back from the convoy.
Once we were out of the San Antonio traffic, Pete kicked up the speed to around 120. We sped through Hondo and Uvalde. While we were in Uvalde, we got a call from Joni (who was in Chris’ car) saying that they’d stopped at a gas station in Uvalde and just saw us go by. So we’d caught up. Finally. After we left Uvalde and were about 30 miles away from Del Rio, we were stopped by a highway patrolman who wrote on Pete’s ticket that he’d detected us going 111 miles-per-hour. At this point on our trip to Acuña, Mexico, Pete changed seats with Lauren and allowed her to drive the remainder of the way.
We finally drove into Del Rio, Texas, where we would be stopping the car and staying in a Motel 6 that night. We were on our way to the motel when we got a call from Rob saying that Travis had been pulled over somewhere in Del Rio. We decided to wait for Travis so that we could all get to the motel at the same time, so we met up with Chris and Preach and their passengers in the parking lot for the Jett Bowling Alley. Once Travis finally showed up, we hung out in the parking lot for ten minutes or so before making our way to the Motel 6.
We parked as far away from the welcoming center as we could so that Travis and Mark could go in and pay for two rooms. Once we had our rooms, we threw all our stuff in one of them and paid one of the two guys the six dollars that each of us owed for the room. It was about 6:30 and we couldn’t wait to go to Mexico, so we called the Amigo’s cab company and had them send two vans for all nineteen of us. We split ourselves up and climbed aboard the cabs. The van I ended up in already had a couple that was visiting Mexico, along with the cab driver’s son. We were still able to pile myself, Mark, Joni, Lauren, Pete, Kyle C., Rob, Chris, and Jess into the cab. Count ’em. That’s thirteen people in one van that had seats for eight people. It was a little cramped. I was crammed in the back seat between Mark and Joni, Lauren was sitting next to the couple with Kyle C. in her lap, Pete was in the passenger’s seat, the cab driver’s son was riding bitch (between the driver and the passenger), and we crammed Chris, Jess, and Rob into the trunk (no joke). Then, we were off to Acuña.
The cab driver paid the 25 cents to get us across the border, so in turn each person in the cab (excluding her son) paid her four dollars when we climbed out. There we were in Acuña, Mexico, with neon lights all around us and lines of bars on either side of the road. Our first stop was Ma Crosby’s for dinner. Genuine Mexican food. I started off the meal with a huge margarita, and once that was gone (about two minutes later) I had a piña colada. They were absolutely to die for. The chips and queso were one hundred percent delicious, and the charolitos that I had for my entree were damn near orgasmic. We took a lot of pictures during dinner, smoked a lot of cigarettes, and did a lot of dancing (there was a dance floor in front of the live band). We got our bill at the end of the meal which amounted to $202, including about $50 for gratuity. We figured we spent about $100 on alcohol and $50 on the actual meals. Ah, well. We split it up as evenly as we could without ripping people off that didn’t have more than one drink and each of us ended up paying between $10 and $15 (I was at the higher end of that spectrum, after having had tossed in fifteen dollars for my ten dollar meal, which included my drinks). So now our stomachs were full and we were ready to party.
Our first stop was at the club Up&Down, which was a multi-level bar/club (four levels) with two dance floors, two bars, slides, poles, a mechanical bull, and a “balcony” level that looked over the city. This was where we spent the majority of our time and by the end of the night I had spent a total of ten dollars at Up&Down. How? The charge at the door was ten dollars. Once paid, our hands were stamped with UV-reactive ink and the drinks were endless. We spent about thirty minutes in Up&Down before heading to Corona’s across the street, where we paid three dollars to have our hands stamped which would allow us to enter freely whenever we wanted. Once we were stamped at Corona’s we just went back to Up&Down. About two hours later, everyone was trashed. It was wild. While the place smelled like a mixture of piss, vomit, and shit, we had the time of our lives. The main floor was where the free bar was located. We could get any number of cocktails (Taquila Sunrise, Piña Colada, Rum & Coke, etc.) or Coronalitas (Coronas, but smaller) for the price of absolutely nothing at this bar. This floor also had two poles and a slide (along with a spiral staircase that was rarely used for going down, or even up in my case) that could be used to get to the “basement level,” as I called it, which was where the first dance floor was. This floor was surrounded in mirrors and was the perfect place for raunchy dancing, grinding, and practically fucking. It also turned out to be a great place for “private viewings” of girls who wanted to earn Mardi Gras beads, which I forgot to mention nearly all the guys in our party were equipped with. Most of our time early in the night was spent on this floor.
After spending a couple hours on these two floors of Up&Down, a few of us headed back over to Corona’s to see what they had in store for us. Unfortunately, it turned out the drinks at Corona’s weren’t free (which brings up the question, “Why go there, then?”) but Rob and I stayed for a little while hitting on a thirty-something woman named Liza. She was a very attractive lady, single as well, and very flirtatious (possibly because she was also quite drunk) but we decided to head back to Up&Down eventually, where we stayed for the rest of the night.
So we returned to Up&Down and decided to check out the two upper levels of the club. The first upper level was on the roof of the club and it contained another dance floor where they played primarily country music, another bar with more exotic (but not-so-free) drinks, a mechanical bull, and a stairway that led even higher up onto the roof to the “balcony level.” There was nothing on the balcony level aside from a small pavillion-like thing and a great view of the city, but it turned out to be a prime place for smoking and just hanging out with people. We danced on the roof level for a while and met a ton of people, some from Texas Tech, some from Austin, some from Corpus Christi, and other people from a lot of random places. I rode the mechanical bull for two dollars (the girls found an easy way to ride the bull for free: show the Mexican man controlling it their tits) and was thrown off after about a minute. I’d have to say that was the worst part of the night (although not actually bad, just not as great as everything else) because to this minute now I still cannot move my head forward or too the left. Other than that, though, the experience was quite superb.
An hour or so after the bull incident, I noticed Chris was sitting quite still, keeled over in a chair near the dance floor on the roof. I started really watching out for him, the minute I walked away was the minute he puked all over himself. Deanna was also starting to feel pretty bad and Will was passed out on the roof as well. After talking to a few of the guys, we decided to grab the sick and walk back to the border. Unfortunately, word didn’t get around to everyone and so not many of us left right then.
So Preach carried Will and I carried Chris about a mile and a half to the Mexico/America border where we showed our IDs and walked across. The Amigo’s cab company was right across the border so we bought one van at two dollars per person and drove back to the Motel 6. I was fortunate enough to get the passenger seat that time around with Preach as the bitch and Travis, Chris, Jared, Will, Meredith, Deanna, Cody, Britt, and Hillary crammed into the rest of the taxi. When we arrived at the Motel 6, we discovered that Jess, Kyle C., Pete, and Lauren had hitched a ride with somebody driving over the border and made it in much less time than we had. So I dropped Chris off with Lauren and Pete and headed off to Whataburger with Preach, Jared, Will (who was awake now), and Cody to get a three-in-the-morning meal. I returned from Whataburger to learn that the rooms had been split up with who was where and whatnot. It turned out I’d be rooming with Pete, Lauren, and Chris (who I’d assumed) and Rob, who’d gotten over the border with Joni and Mark the same way we had. Our other room contained Kyle C., Jess, Mark, Joni, Meredith, and Travis. Preach, Cody, Will, Jared, Britt, Hillary, and Deanna were staying with some friends that Preach met in Del Rio. If you counted, you may have noticed that one person is unaccounted-for as far as which room they would stay in for the night. Well, to this moment we’re still not sure where in the hell Rebecca stayed or how in the hell she even crossed the border, but she found us shortly before we left to head back to College Station so everything was good.
The night was a little rough for me. Chris passed out on one of our two beds, Pete and Lauren grabbed the other, and since I didn’t particularly want to sleep next to a guy that may puke on me in the middle of the night I laid down on the floor and Rob climbed into the bed next to Chris. During the night I was woken up every time Chris got up to puke. I don’t know how long it was before I even fell asleep in the first place. Needless to say, I’m still quite tired considering I haven’t really slept much (save for a five-or-so-minute nap in the car on the way home).
When everyone was awake, I woke myself up further with three cigarettes, a cup of ice, and a nice teeth-brushing session. We arranged who would be driving with who again (most of it stayed the same, except Mark would be driving Chris’ truck with Rob and Joni as passengers and Chris would ride with Travis, Jess, and Meredith. We left shortly after check-out time (noon) and while Mark somehow got way the hell in front of us after missing a stop light, we were able to stay behind Travis for the majority of the trip back, including when both cars stopped at a Wendy’s for lunch. We filled up for gas (I allowed Pete to use my Shell card once again) and then took off, both cars driving at safe speeds. Like I said, I slept for about five or six minutes during a Dave Matthew’s Band song wrapped with Lauren in her blanket in the back seat. Other than that I was awake most of the ride home. I think I may have also dozed off somewhere between San Antonio and Caldwell, because I completely missed when we drove by Austin. Travis pulled off onto a country road about fifty miles from Bryan so we followed him, thinking he may know a shortcut. It turned out Chris just needed to climb out and puke a few more times. So we sat back and watched him; Pete, Kyle C., and myself cheering for him to do it a third time in a row (which he didn’t) and Lauren burying her face in her blanket. We pulled out back onto 21 before Travis did, and we took off, losing them very shortly thereafter. Other than that, the ride back was pretty uneventful.
We finally made it back to campus, dropped Lauren off at her dorm, and then parked the car and walked with our bags back to Dunn. I dropped my stuff off, showered, went to see a play at Blocker I was required to see for both THAR110 and THAR102, smoked a cigarette, and here I am now, telling the epic tale of the Acuña, Mexico road trip.
Other things I forgot to mention:
There was a man on the balcony level at Up&Down trying to sell us cocaine.
The bathroom attendent on the main level also tried to sell us cocaine.
Upon passing Becky at one point on the main level, I grabbed her and kissed her.
I saw several pairs of boobs.
Travis and Preach were drinking on the way to Del Rio and got lost somewhere before we made it to San Antonio.
We stole a trashcan from our room in Motel 6 for Chris to take with him on the ride back.
I also took a washcloth from Motel 6.
I spoke quite a bit of Spanish throughout the night, including the following phrases:
Donde esta es la baño? (Where is the bathroom?)
Yo soy muy borracho! (I am very drunk!)
Gracias, Señor. (Thank you, Sir.)
Uno mas! (One more!)
No gracias. (No thank you.)
No mas! (No more!)
Muy bueno! (Very good!)
and the ever so common (especially in toasts):
Viva la Mexico!
31 August, 2012 § Leave a comment
Did you happen to catch Mr. Eastwood’s duet at the RNC last night? I found it to be most sensational, inspirational, celebrational and, above all else, Muppetational.
- Clint Eastwood – Clint Eastwood’s ’empty Chair’ Speech Becomes Youtube Sensation (contactmusic.com)
- Clint Eastwood Talking To A Chair Is The Most Old-Person Thing To Ever Happen In Florida (blogs.browardpalmbeach.com)
- Trouble with the chair: Clint mocked for RNC bit (metronews.ca)
- #Eastwooding: Twitter trend has users posting empty chair pics (kdvr.com)