Texas Highways – September 2019

(lily) #1

14 texashighways.com


OPEN ROAD (^) | ESSAY
some for reasons nobody could guess—
and now they’re all trying to unwind from
something. All of that, plus alcohol, makes
the patrons of a hotel bar more conge-
nial than they might be otherwise, more
likely to open up about the most interest-
ing parts of their lives.
The conversations at a hotel bar,
between total strangers, are as real as a
puff of smoke. As soon as the wind blows,
it’s almost like they never existed at all.
The people here probably won’t meet
again. And even if they do, they may
never again acknowledge what was said
over an untold number of cocktails with
a stranger.
There’s something magical about that.
It’s a chance to understand your fellow
humans in new ways, with the freedom
of anonymity. It’s a chance to confess to
someone you’ll never see again. I travel a
lot and end up in a lot of hotel bars, which
declares, “I have a story.”
The barback says a few years ago he
dated a woman he met at the gym. She
was 18 and had a young kid and no car.
Pretty soon this guy was driving his new
girlfriend everywhere she needed to go. At
some point, he explains, he had some sort
of seizure and ended up in the hospital.
“Oh no,” says the man from Orange
County.
“That’s when she ended it,” the barback
says.
“Right there in the hospital?” Orange
County asks.
The barback takes a breath.
“Over the phone,” he says.
The man from Orange County grimaces
and finishes his beer. Soon, though, he’s
back on his phone, sending his girlfriend
a series of frantic texts. It’s five, then 10—a
mix of insults and threats to call the police
or their mutual friends. Then he calls
again, leaves another angry message.
Then more texts.
At least three people are watching now.
“What do I do?” the man asks.
His computer! His clothes! His
meetings!
“It could be worse,” the barback says.
“You could be in a hospital getting broken
up with over the phone.”
This seems to calm the man from
Orange County. He quietly pays his tab
and disappears into the night. The most
interesting story of the evening turns out
to be a truncated, unresolved excerpt.
O
FTENTIMES, A GOOD HOTEL BAR
has soft lighting, unobtrusive music,
and delicious drinks. It’s populated by a
collection of travelers: everyone in the
middle of their own adventure, all cross-
ing paths by happenstance. Some of them
are in town for work, some for vacation,

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