I wonder if it’s kosher to write about a “Two-Meat Tuesday” if I never even approached BBQ? Sure it is. Besides, the thematic elements are certainly there, even if I missed BBQ completely. Anyway, up on the West Side, in El Paso? I wandered into a coffee whop Monday night, and the guy behind the counter asked if I wanted my usual. “Isn’t your name Roger?” I don’t think so, but thanks for asking.
It’s a tale of swamp coolers and casinos:
Started out “Chez Grace y Bubba,” and had to run off with clients. Got in a couple of more readings. On the way to the airport, I had a chance to dash through Cafe Dali, and I ordered up a drink, “Just the way I like my women, iced espresso….”
Second time I was regarded as a “regular.” Been six months, most near, since I’ve been in El Paso. I don’t think once every six month qualifies as a regular. Of note, though, Cafe Dali is advertising free WiFi. Didn’t get a chance to test it, but it’s nice to see. Looks like a couple of new subdivisions have been added since I was last there, plus there’s that new Bucky’s. Several, I think.
I was explaining that “generational thing,” and I had an idea. Maybe too much coffee, but how about a “Texas Mountain Standard Tribe”?
Music: “They call me the Breeze….”
“Hey Kramer,” Grace’s littlest Leo asked, “what time’s your flight?”
I gave her a time.
“Oh good,” she dryly replied, “only 17 hours, thirty minutes until you leave.”
So nice to be loved. She did bake some cookies Tuesday afternoon, and she did give me a bag of homemade chocolate chip cookies to travel with.
Music: “Freebird!”
Swamp coolers and casinos:
Grace’s place was running with a swamp cooler. Know what that is? Old-fashioned “air-conditioner.” Water dripped onto pads and the air is sucked through the pads, creating cool, damp air. Good for the skin, and the idea only really works well in dry environment like a desert town. Like El Paso. Cool. Excellent sleeping arrangement. Except for the guy who snores.
We did manage, despite ailments, injuries and general fatigue, to hit the casino, and somehow, at least two of us walked out with more money than we walked in with.
Tuesday’s “featured” bumper sticker?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch:
But back in Austin? I rolled the suitcase back to Shady Acres after popping 50 cents for a bus ride downtown. I crossed the “bat bridge,” just at sunset. Sounds like the cat will howl all night long.
What was odd? At some point, Tuesday afternoon, gathered around Grace’s big screen TV, there was a news shot of Austin. The bat bridge. I moaned, “That’s my bridge.”
