Confounded Expectations

I was somewhat dreading the trip. Surely Texas was a place chock full of barbeque stains on white t-shirts, chewin' tobacco, and cowboy boots, and possibly overrun by giant bugs, minute men, and oppressive heat. Since it was the wedding of my close friend from high school, there was no way that I wouldn't make the journey out... but there were so many things to not look forward to in my mind.

Jump ahead two days' worth of succulent barbecue, endless lush scenery, epic blue skies and huge fluffy clouds, a fantastically sweet wedding reception, and oodles of hipster sightings.

I found myself sitting on a bench outside a small dive bar in Round Rock. Bats were flitting around in the darkness, barely illuminated by this light if they ventured too close to where I was sitting. A banjo and two guitars were serenading the night through the open door, and I found myself thinking that hey, maybe Texas (heck, maybe even country music) isn't that bad after all. Sure, it was so hot and humid that one needed a shower upon stepping out the door, and there were a plethora of cowboy boots (especially at the wedding), but there really wasn't much to not enjoy.