Texas Highways – September 2019

(lily) #1

SEPTEMBER 2019 17


guns are all Colt 8-shot revolvers from the
1850s, made for the U.S. Navy but sold to
and used by the Texas Rangers.
Soon the Brussels sprouts woman
asks if anyone wants some of her french
fries; then there’s some vague discus-
sion of aging and how being an adult is
one big mix of sprouts and fries and wine.
After two or three glasses, she asks the
bartender if she can just take the rest
of the bottle up to her room. Before she
leaves—and I’m not sure how the conver-
sation got here—she announces to anyone
within a small radius: “If I finish that
bottle, I’ll end up naked, but I will make
my 8 a.m. meeting!”
She adds, as she walks away, “Have a
good life!”
Within a few minutes there’s a new
group: two women and a man, all in
their late 20s or early 30s. They order
three Aperol spritzes. Then three vodka


martinis (called “batinis”). One of the
women explains that her friends grew
up Mormon and didn’t drink for most of
their lives. Now they do, and while they’re
in Austin she’s helping them try different
mixed drinks to see which ones they like.
Neither of the former teetotalers finish
their martinis.
I’ve been at the bar for about two hours,
watching people cycle in and out, when
a young woman walks in wearing 5-inch
heels and a long dress. She sits two seats
away from me, tells the bartender she’ll
have what she usually has, and receives
a glass of white wine. She pays from a
roll of one-dollar bills. She introduces
herself, says she’s a student at the Univer-
sity of Texas who lives downtown. Her
major: the very vague-sounding “business
administration.”
In a hotel bar, I remind myself, every-
one has secrets. Some people are

working. Some are out for adventure. For
some, it’s both.
I watch her make conversation with the
man in jeans and boots. She’s quiet, but I
hear her mention that she likes Miami and
Las Vegas. Then she starts a conversation
with another man, sitting on the other
side of the bar. Then, after half an hour
or so, she finishes her glass of wine and
heads toward the hotel lobby, off to look
for magic elsewhere.

T


HE FINAL NIGHT OF THE HOTEL
bar tour is at the Adolphus in down-
town Dallas. As I drive up Interstate-35,
replaying the faces and stories from the
last two nights in my head like an imagi-
nary podcast, I start thinking more about
why I like hotel bars so much. I under-
stand that it’s about the taste of luxury,

continued on Page 102
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