every time i try and get out, they pull me back in….

the subject line here…referring to the mafia? debt? my former porn career? nope. talking about downtown san antonio, texas. i am now firmly convinced that a good portion of sa’s residency just got off the highway to get something to drink, and then couldn’t figure out how to get back on; so they HAD to stay. yesterday, i made it out alive…but today, will i be so lucky?

fanny packs. acid washed jeans. lynyrd skynyrd reunion tour shirts. dew rags. parachute pants. all 80’s relics? nope. all things seen within the first FIVE minutes of opening a box office at a metal show in sa. that, and bad ink. really bad ink. like, if you have a tattoo, and it looks good, realized how blessed you are compared to a lot of people who basically have a colorful (or not so colorful) scar they call a tattoo. and that reference i made a couple of weeks ago about halter tops in plus sizes NOT needing to be bought? they didn’t listen. oh, how they didn’t listen. of course, they also didn’t pay attention to my, “repeating the price does not make it go down”, or “this is not a flea market, so don’t try to haggle”. see, josh read most of this stuff BEFORE he ever worked in a box office. now he has seen where it came from. also, to the guy who ignored my, “we are not a coat check…i’m not responsible for your stuff” advice, all i can say is, “thanks”. the skull knife is REALLY cool. and boiling for sterilization purposes as we speak.

so, something about a predominantly appearance-challenged crowd (ever heard “ugly” phrased any nicer?), free beer, free bar-b-que, and 11 hours on our feet in the heat made me and josh crave ice cream from sonic. i don’t know why, it just did. it doesn’t HAVE to make sense. cravings are like that. take those of you reading this who occasionally crave ME. not that i’m complaining, just showing that as cool (for me) as some cravings are, they don’t have to make sense. we got directions to the nearest sonic in the downtown area from a slightly drunk, slightly old white guy (and the directions basically worked) and away we went.

interesting thing about downtown sa. they have signs that point TOWARDS things, but not right at them. like a sign that said, “35 North” and had an arrow to the left, led us into a rather ghettofied area, where you could see above you the interstate, but you couldn’t get to it. downtown is like that. there was an arrow that pointed to the right and said, “broadway”, which is where the sonic we were looking for was. but when we turned right, we WEREN’T on broadway. but two blocks down, a block over, and we somehow found it. getting back on i35 was a different story.

we drove around downtown sa for about seven hours trying to find the fucking highway. everywhere we went, we could SEE the damn thing. you can drive UNDER it. you just can’t get ON it. at one point, we ended up in a crowd of traffic (at 12:45 am) on commerce street, which made NO sense since it’s not like a show or game or something had just gotten out, but it was absolute gridlock. a few twists and turns in our kick-ass 2002 trail blazer rental, and we end up by the alamo. and then it hit me. our way out…we could draw our inspiration from a rock and roll rebel. the prince of darkness turned real-com star (as in reality comedy…caught the osbourne’s yet? “sharon, i’m the prince of fucking darkness…i can’t have fucking BUBBLES floating off my stage”, he says as he sees the first set up for his merry mayhem tour stage. TOO funny. but, as per usual, i digress…)

i said, “hey…if we go at this ozzy-style, we’re golden”. josh looked at me puzzled. i completed my thought, saying, “simple dude…we’ll go PISS on the alamo. they kicked ozzy out for it, they’ll have to kick us out, too. and in order to kick us out, they’ll HAVE to show us where the only on ramp in downtown sa is!!!”

well, cooler heads, our native texan loyalties, and the fact i have to go back there sunday and monday prevailed and we decided to make one more last turn, and there it was. a bona fide off ramp. our holy grail. the jones had been squashed. moments ago, we were fiending for a way out of sa like a crack head wanting another hit. now we had our fix, and we didn’t abandon i35 again till we were WELL north of san antonio. hell, we even waited till we were north of bexar county. and now, i’m off to the shower to get ready and go BACK. but i am SO not going downtown…