Also, a study in contrasts, or alternatively titled: a study of the duality of Brisketexan.
Yesterday was my birthday. I celebrated in the following ways:
- I road-tripped north because I had to be in court out of town. Any birthday spent in a courtroom is a good day for a trial lawyer. Seriously, good stuff.
- I got a bit later start than I wanted, so my lunch needed to be quick. So I stopped and had a meal of spicy tenders and red beans and rice at a roadside Popeyes . . . situated inside a truck stop . . . which was understaffed . . . and the Popeye's pisser was broken so I had to walk all the way back to the truck stop bathrooms to take a leak. It was an A+ experience. Of course they gave me extra tenders, because who the fuck can count at Popeyes?
- on my way home, stopped to try to pick up a new firearm I had purchased and had shipped here. Which is when the fact that DPS unilaterally changed my name on my TDL (they decided they needed to gringo-fy my middle name) finally caught up with me. Federal databases have my name correctly (because, you know...that's my actual fucking name). So, I need to bring in an ID with my actual legal name (my passport will do). So, no birthday weapon for Brisket.
- wife and I went to Red Ash for the first time. The steak I had there was the best steak I've had in Austin. Seriously, it was perfect in every way. Perfectly cooked, well-seasoned, melt in your mouth tender aged beef.
I figure this sequence belongs here because the anchor point was "birthday lunch at a truckstop Popeyes." I may wear a tie to court, I may eat a fancy steak at dinner, but deep in my soul....I'm a truckstop Popeyes man, and always will be.