Ok. As we finally get back on the road to Orlando, irish, grab the wheel for me here...Perfect. Remember to clutch first. Where are we? Got it.
Ahoy, Trev-fans! My trusty sidekick and I are back on track to Florida after a few brief stops over the weekend. I'm sure our fellow Greyhound passengers didn't mind me stopping at every Waffle House along Interstate 10 en route from Austin, TX, and our editor wanted a quick stop-over in Atlanta to check out In Dodd We Trust. I swear, the kid gets all crazy when someone links us. Amateur. We'd have been in Florida hours ago if it wasn't for him and Trev Rule #4: Leave no Waffle behind. Delicious.
Austin, TX: This place is a college fan's dream come true! The UT campus is a stone's throw from the heart of downtown Austin, and that heart is full of taverns, pubs, and bars, a cornucopia of boozing adventure. A simple walk down 6th St. was all anyone needed to appease any tastes. There were rock bars, blues bars, wine bars, beer bars, country saloons, Irish pubs, and pool halls all ripe for the conquering, brimming with talent and beers the size of my head!
Austin, #1 in Trev's liver.
From a rooftop patio, the kid and I surveyed the action. It was Republic of Texas Biker Rally Weekend, so the streets were closed, yet full of real blue-collar, red-state Austiners. Austinites? Austonians? Locals. While several of the local community colleges finest ladies were manning beer tubs and $2 jello shot platters, the strains of Journey, Bon Jovi, and Def Leppard could be heard from no less than 3 different establishments. Irish was fond of the Shiner Bock, the local specialty, while I made sure that my specialty, anything with Jagermeister, was being crammed down the gullets of ever living person within a 2 Trev shooting radius. Bar patrons, shot girls, passing missionaries, all were enjoying blood-red alcoholic goodness on ESPN's dime! (You know how Initec kept paying Milton? Its kind of like that. -IrishOutsider)
With friends and well-wishers representing a multitude of nationalities, I realized I had a makeshift drunken army! We rambled from bar to bar, claiming each new location as we shotgunned beers, toasted, and reveled long into the Texas night. After our fifth bar, I eventually got the idea to visit UT. Considering I was leading the charge with no pants and a necktie-bandanna at this point, none of my drunken warriors followed me into the street. Oh well, at least there were two pizza stands outside.
The pizza places were quite popular at 2 am, a good crowd had formed in front of the various counters, a captive audience. Apparently, trying to get drunk coeds to scream campfire songs is frowned upon in Austin. Believe it or not, not everyone in Austin knew the proper response to "The stars at night are big and bright...", damn you Pee Wee Herman! While loudly and festively searching for my pants, I run into the kid seated on the curb, pizza in hand, and a few police officers finally run me down. As they tackle me, I give my clueless editor power of attorney. When he begins to scream obscenities at me for my folly, he is taken in as well...
So there's the Trev side of the story. It may not have tact or grace, but its gritty, real, and full of intrigue. Intrigue and Jager. Good times.
*Transmission ended at 9:03pm*
Trev Alberts is a former ESPN analyst. He is still hungover despite 7 trips to Waffle House.