austin by day, mexico by night

"Oh-my-gosh!

You want me to what?!

You're going where at 1:15 in the morning from a ghetto-east-side-no-name-bus-depot?"

So I am sitting in the living room minding my own business around 11pm in my scrubs when my housemate's cellphone rings. After a few minutes she emerges from her room in a panic. Runs over to me and falls on her knees and buries her head into the couch cushion:

"Emily, I am in a perdicament. This ESL student from Singapore wants me to pick her up at a bus station and drive her to her apartment to get her passport then promptly back to the bus station. She is going to Mexico by herself. What should I do!? Ahh-ahaha!"

"First of all, I am not letting you go to east Austin at this time of night, especially not in your chitty-chitty-bang-bang FT-er car. Second of all, this student is out-of-her-mind! Mexico at one in the morning on a make-shift bus station by herself?! She doesn't even speak Spanish. What is she thinking?! Why~!? God, why!? Do we really want to condone this?"

After I throw on my bright orange polyester jacket and grab my cellphone, wallet, and keys we jump in my slightly-more-fit-chitty-chitty-bang-bang FT-er car and head off to lovely Airport Blvd. in East Austin in the wee hours of the night. Need I say more?

On the ride there more crazy info is unveiled. This "student" is a single woman about 35 AND she has only bought a one-way ticket. Again, what is wrong with this woman? I keep thinking, "If she had been planning this trip why wouldn't she have her passport with her? why would she only buy a one-way-ticket? and what is with traveling alone? Hmmm."

the east side

(disclaimer: sorry to anyone who reads this from the East side and is offended. I'm just writing what I saw).

I used to work in the East side of Austin. You know, 'that' side of town where it seems that things are just more simple, yet dirty at the same time. The yards are rarely picked up and tame on the East side. They are usually strewn about with toys, rusty objects, trash, and children grinning with silver and black in their teeth. The few shops along the roadside are glorified flee markets and the roads and parking lots are full of potholes missing paint lines with roadsigns covered with grafiti.

Yesterday I ventured into the East side for a cold ice cream shake from the closest Sonic to where I live (ok, ok, so I live across the freeway from the East side, it's still on the other side).

*Buzz* I pressed the talk button.
Sonic lady: Hi. Welcome to Sonic. My name is Sandra can I take yur order?
Emily: Yes, I would like a large Oreo Sonic Blast please.
Sandra the Sonic lady: Ok. Would ya like anything else with that, some onion rings or tots?
E: No, no thanks.
SSL: Alright, that will be $2.70.

Sadly enough I sat in my hot car for 15 minutes after ordering just to find out through overhearing the order from the car next to me that the ice cream machine was broken. So I rang the girl again.

*Buzz*
SSL: Welcome to Sonic. My name is Sandra can I take yur order?
E: Uhm, Hi Sandra. Is what I hear correct, is the ice cream machine really broken?
SSL: Yes, that is correct. The ice cream machine is broke.
E: Well then, I have been waiting out here for my order of an Oreo Sonic Blast. . .
SSL: Well, mamm, the ice cream machine is broke.
E: Well that's just fine, but no one told me. Sandra hunny would you please cancel my order then?
SSL: Ok. No problem.

No problem. No problem? No problem, my foot! That is just how things are done on the East side.