In between catching Phantom Planet and trying to complete the always elusive they-are-playing-at-the-same-time-but-at-different-venues bill of Two Gallants and The Spinto Band I decided that I was hungry. What should I get? I know! The Best Wurst!
Earlier in the week a record label client stated when he first started coming to Austin, he was certain these carts of pork stuffed goodness would immediately give him Botulism upon eating. This same client followed that statement up by saying these carts seemed to have improved their habits over the years, even springing a few bucks and upgrading their signage.
While in line at the BW (as it will now on be referred to as) and it’s impossibly long lines, I somehow end up the middle man between a couple of clearly drunk Irish women behind me and the “you ladies would never talk to me if you were sober” guy in front of me. They go on and on about Irish things like shamrock shakes, Blarney Gtones, potatoes, Notre Dame and the proper pronunciation of the name “Geoff”.
While this conversation is happening, the man, “Geoff” in front of me does not realize that he should be inching forward in the BW line as he talks. But he’s so engrossed in this conversation, he does not realize that he’s next in line and officially stunting my direct need for pork-stuffed casings and onions on a roll. Finally realizing what he’s doing to my stomach, he places his order with the cook at the BW stand.
Then the most bizarre thing happens. The cook starts talking about Burning Man out of the blue while cooking bratwursts! I think what happened was some sort of stoner eye contact was made between “Geoff” and “Cook”, giving them carte blanche to start speaking stoner to each other! All I kept thinking was “I never gonna eat an Italian sausage tonight. “Geoff” likes to talk. And dude cooking my food looks like Criss Angel, Mindfreak.”
Even as I begin placing my order, “Geoff” stands off to the side still talking. I finally get to give my order (twice), pay the cashier and start walking away from the scene. As I get about 20 feet from the BW I take a bite of my food. Blam! Bratwurst with sauerkraut! And I ordered Italian sausage with onions. Mindfreak 1, Matt 0. I’m glad I repeated my order.
Then 3 steps later I get visited by a Carnie asking me if I wanted to buy mushrooms…
Let the freak flag fly Austin, let it fly like an eagle over the desert at Burning Man.