102 texashighways.com
the one-night-only friendships, the titil-
lation that comes from a secret with a
stranger—but why is that so appealing?
On one level, it’s a nice reminder that,
despite our loneliness, humans are deeply
connected and interdependent in ways
we still don’t fully understand. It’s why
you can be moved to tears at a funeral
for someone you’ve never met. It’s why
friends often get pregnant in groups,
why suicides happen in clusters, why
the words of a stranger can completely
change your mood. In hotel bars, you can
feel that connectedness in the scented air.
But it’s also an escape from reality. It’s
a reprieve from the dreads and regrets of
our everyday lives.
All three bars on this trip blend haunt-
ing history with modern opulence: a
blue-collar brewery-turned-five-star-
hotel in San Antonio, a lavish saloon for
powerbrokers in Austin, a landmark of
generational wealth in Dallas. Built in
1912, the Adolphus has hosted presidents,
monarchs, and magnates.
Walking in, I notice the glowing fire-
place in the French Room Bar and the
lighting in every room: dim enough to feel
like the hues of a dream. The Adolphus
actually has two bars on the ground floor.
I find a spot at the City Hall Bar in the
social lobby and learn there’s a confer-
ence in town, something to do with the
future of plastics.
It seems like there are 20 different
conversations happening here, most of
them weaving together, overlapping.
One man wearing a thick gold brace-
let says he’s from Michigan. There’s a
woman from Maine. A group of business-
men from Collin County. Two guys from
Arizona see me taking notes in a small
notebook and drunkenly joke that I must
be “writing raps.” Some of the men and
women here are corporate leaders. Some
are aspiring entrepreneurs. It makes for
a chaotic blur of names and places and
micro-conversations.
Somehow I start a side conversation
with an artificial-intelligence expert from
Austin, here for the conference. There arejokes about robots uniting to overtake
humanity, but the AI guy says he doesn’t
think that’s likely. He describes some of
the most recent breakthroughs in the
industry in ways that make me feel like I
actually sort of understand a little bit.
Soon this AI guy and I are talking about
life in general. He used to be in a heavy
metal band; now, he’s married with a
toddler. He tells me that so much of his life
is about this balance he’s striving for. He
wants to accomplish great things, some-
thing that will benefit humanity and leave
his mark on the world. That takes time
and a deep concentration bordering on
mania. But he also wants to spend quality
time with his family. Nobody’s found an
algorithm for that yet.
I explain that I feel the same way, that
I have similar struggles. I rarely have the
time to write all the things I most want
to, and I don’t spend enough time with
my family. We’re two strangers trying to
make sense of this world, together. That’s
what hotel bars are all about.
We go on like this for a while. After the
bar closes, there’s talk of going some-
where for pancakes. But no, it’s late, and
we both know we have obligations in the
morning. We follow each other on social
media but never communicate again.
I realize, of course, that these are not
the connections in life that matter. Family
matters. Close friends matter. The rela-
tionships that are deeper, more compli-
cated. The people who know nearly all of
your secrets and love you anyway. And I
know that when you accomplish some-
thing in life, it’s not because you lied
to strangers at a hotel bar. It’s usually
because you worked toward a goal—
often longer and more intensely than you
initially imagined possible.
Still, the anonymity of a hotel bar is
alluring, intoxicating. There’s something
compelling about stories from the life of
a stranger: the desperate man fighting a
silent phone, the barback with a broken
heart, the woman who sells fantasies, the
man who ponders the future for a living.
Then there’s the worst part of a hotel
bar: the moment you pay your tab, get up
from your stool, and return to real life.WWW.HISTORICSCHOOLS.ORG
In the heart of the Texas
Hill Country visit 17 historic
one-room schools built between
1847 and 1936 by following
the 120 mile Gillespie County
Country Schools Driving Trail
through the scenic
Fredericksburg, Texas countryside.Visit our website for a tour map
and information on our historic schools
and community centers.All schools listed on
the National Register of Historic Places.
Member of Country School Association of America.Restoring and Preserving
Our History OPEN ROAD | continued from Page 17