Austin, Texas was all about Dos Equis and guns. Oh, and I got to see Andy and Jen for the first time in like three years.
Andy has been married for several years and lives in a really nice house in a place called Pflugerville which I don't think is technically in Austin but is close enough to Austin to call it Austin. Not only is he married but he is a homeowner. It made me reevaluate living in relative squalor in decaying Boston buildings for the past four years, but it also made me realize I'm happy I hadn't been married during those years because I completely was not ready for things like mortgages and life insurance and if I had to do it over I might have changed some of the details but the plot would have remained largely consistent with my reality. But he isn't me (and I know he's quite happy about that), so good for Andy that he is happy. And it's not like that is some new development to either of us.
His wife, Abigail, was a super trooper all weekend. She hobbled around on a bum ankle to help show me a good time in Austin. I am very grateful for them to let me stay at their home and provide me oasis in Austin, which also happens to be considered an oasis of sorts in Texas. Boom, poetry. Anyways, now that that's out of the way ...
MOTHERFUCKING GUNS!
I'd been to a gun range in Massachusetts once and I think there was one other guy there. The one in Austin was a whole different story. There was a wait for us to get in. And once we got in, it was really hard for me to load the clip to our rented Glock 17 9mm, at least at first, because holding/pushing down on ammo while a bunch of other guns fire is kind of jarring and I kept getting spooked and thinking somehow I was blowing the bullets up in my hand and that probably would have been bad. But I realized such a thing was also basically impossible and eventually settled down. Also, our Glock seemed dinky compared to what some of the other people in there had. These dudes and dudettes (Monday is Ladies Day at Red's Indoor Range, if you take a close look at the sign) were firing straight-up Call of Duty shit. M4 rifles with holographic scopes and hunting rifles and shotguns and bigass revolvers. Somehow this powerful-as-fuck handgun that I knew would have blown the shit out of my face had I made a mistake was like a water pistol in contrast.
But, man was it fun. We split 100 rounds, but I think I shot a few more than he did since I was the guest and all. And you know what? Maybe it was the adrenaline or something, but that paper target was my bitch. Had it been some unarmed motionless nobody posing zero threat to my well-being, I would have killed the fuck out of him or her many, many, MANY times over. I was even better than Andy was, and he's the Texan (sorta). He only would have killed this imaginary ignoramus many, many times over; as far as I'm concerned that is a big difference. I was totally jittery in there though; being in a room full of people firing guns might do that to you, I guess. Or maybe just to me.
He was still at work when I got to town on Friday, so after replacing both of my car's headlights in an Autozone parking lot, I went to see the Capitol building because I could a) see it from the highway and b) there were signs pointing to it. And this place was pretty big and cool looking. Not Jerral World big, but definitely a little cooler looking.
