I work in downtown Austin. This is one of my favorite things about the job that I have right now. It makes me feel so much more connected to this city than when I was working in the ‘burbs of North Austin. I love walking up Congress and looking at the different food trucks, coffee shops, buildings, and people. I just feel like Mary Tyler Moore walking through the bustling streets of Minneapolis and I wanna take off my knitted cap and throw it into the air!
Until, you know, I get accosted by homeless people or, even worse, volunteers. Then I’m like, “ugh, downtown is the WORST!”
It’s an interesting mix of people. In a city filled with government jobs, tourism, start-ups, and service industry, it makes it surprisingly hard to tell who’s who. I actually find myself playing this game called “homeless or hipster”. It’s not the most PC game, alright? I know that. But I urge you to try it sometime. It’s actually really hard to tell, especially if you’re further away and can’t hear what they are saying. And the sad part is that a lot of those homeless looking people who turn out to be hipsters are actually pretty successful! What a time to be alive! That’s what’s become of Austin these days. Even hipsters are corporate now.
All of this reminds me of the very first hipster I ever knew and my spirit guide to this great city: Randi*
We actually met in 2004 during my brief habitation in Hawaii. We were in the same program at school and she was dating one of my best friends and we just clicked. We barely had anything in common, but I made her laugh and she was the most unique person I had ever met. We roamed around Honolulu for 5 months being poor and scrappy and relying on infrequent and small checks from family members to treat ourselves. It was probably the time of my life.
Fast forward 4 years and I decide to move from Ohio to Austin. Thanks to the wonders of the internet (AKA Myspace) I found out that she was living here too, of all places! She was doing a short stint here in between her time in Alaska where she worked in a tourist town. It was so typically Randi. She wasn’t even living in Anchorage, but Skagway, a lesser known tourist trap. She found a job at a bar, which was great during peak season but once the weather turned less appealing to travelers, she decided to return to the “lower 48”. A friend told her about Austin and they drove all the way down to make the move. She found a duplex on the east side that had a one bedroom loft. To bring the cost down, she got a roommate. Her roommate had a bed in the kitchen where a table should be and Randi put a mattress in the foyer. That’s right. A mattress in the foyer. The “bedroom” in the middle served a communal space. She thought this set-up was genius and she wasn’t wrong! This girl got a place on East 7th and San Marcos and paid $450 a month. FOR THE WHOLE DUPLEX. I’ll just let you marinate on that for a minute.
When I first got Texas, I stayed in Killeen while I found a place to live in Austin. I would meet up with Randi on the weekends and she would show me around town. The first Michelada I ever had was at a hole in the wall bar called Lovejoy’s on the dirty side of 6th. Long after Austin passed its smoking ban, Lovejoy’s still put out ashtrays. It was dark during the day and always smelled like fresh vomit by the bathrooms, but they made their own barley wine and when you ordered a bloody mary, they would make it in the kitchen. I’d kill to know what they were doing back there because it was the best bloody mary I have ever had in my life. (PS: If you want to picture a midwestern girl like me in a bar like that, think of Julia Stiles in Save the Last Dance when she goes to the club, but before they give her an impromptu makeover).
She took me to Progress coffee, which, as it turned out, was an early sign of gentrification on the east side. Everyone was so beautiful. Imperfect and beautiful. Randi was like that too. She had no business being desirable but she just oozed this confidence that would make men overlook the fact that she rarely shaved, was missing a tooth (a canine of all teeth) and NEVER wore deodorant. Didn’t matter. She was confident and unapologetic… and SLAYED.
We went to Jackalope, where the walls hung old portraits of nude women and there was a burger stand out back that made the most delicious burgers. We made our way down Red River after a long night of drinking and indulged on Hot Dog King, a trailer between two buildings where they made their own baguettes for buns. She introduced me to crawfish when she took me to my first crawfish boil in Hyde Park. Everyone had a tattoo. I was in my best Old Navy.
She worked at Bouldin Creek (and I mean the original Bouldin Creek, back when it was on S. 1st and Elizabeth and it was just a kitchen counter). From her house on the east side into south Austin, she showed me all the ways to avoid I-35 and skip traffic. I still don’t know how we did it.
Soon, SXSW was upon us and of course, I wanted to attend. Randi took me in, gave me a bike, and we rode to a show at the Typewriter Museum. “That’s a cool place for a venue,” I said.
“No, it’s not a venue,” she corrected. “It’s a typewriter museum. This band is playing in the parking lot.”
Later, when we got home, she and her roommate bemoaned the idea of another SXSW.
“It’s taking over this city,” they complained. “I’m not even going to go to any official shows because they’re all lame. But, are you gonna do any FxFU events? I hear HUG is playing.”
Ok. HUG was like a mix between Ween and Gwar. Randi said that her initiation into Austin involved a full day of drinking at Lovejoys and watching HUG, where the lead singer brought her up on stage and covered her in oatmeal. That’s how she knew she was living in this city. This story horrified me and truly made me wonder if I knew anything about this place I was now calling home.
At the same time, my eventual sister-in-law also wanted to show me around. She and her boyfriend had SXSW wristbands and had the scoop on all the best free shows. There was also more things to see and do, like running on Town Lake and playing frisbee at Zilker Park. Plus, we had this great idea that we should get an apartment together. We went house-hunting in a very specific area of South Austin, from Riverside to Ben White between South First and Congress. We soon found a great 2 bedroom place right on S. 1st across from the first brick and mortar Torchy’s Tacos. (“Torchy’s is over rated,” she’d say. “Cisco’s is way better.”) It was perfect. I couldn’t wait to tell Randi. She was talking about moving back up to Skagway for the swell season and was hoping to find someone to sublet, but this apartment was way better than her place.
“But, I thought you were going to move in here?” she asked, sounding confused.
“Well, you’re leaving, though. I don’t even know your roommate. Plus, this house doesn’t have A.C and… I mean, don’t you get hot at night?”
“Well, the floor is really cold. Plus, you can keep the door open. Actually, it’s super entertaining because you can listen to drunk people walk home from 6th Street.”
“Well, we got a good deal on the place so…”
“What is it, like, some managed complex with a manager and a pool and stuff?”
“Uh, no.” I felt defensive. I knew she wanted me to fit into Austin but she hated the idea of me assimilating. “There’s only like 6 units. It’s really small, Super low-key and under the radar.” I didn’t need to justify this move to anyone, but I felt like I needed to let her know that I was in good hands.
“Whatever. This city is changing so much. I can’t wait to get back to Alaska. It’s just so different, you know?”
She moved a few weeks later and I never really got a proper goodbye. My parents were in town and she didn’t understand that I wanted to get dinner with them and not go to a pig roast with her at some bungalow off Airport. We were supposed to get coffee in the morning but she never called.
That’s how she rolled. That’s how all hipsters roll.
She *WAS* the girl that thought things were cool before you did. Her whole life here was being someone who was pioneering an experience before anyone else got there. Her whole life EVERYWHERE was like that.
Outside of her Myspace page, she didn’t really have an online presence. Even that got shut down shortly after the move. I have no idea where she lives today or what she is doing. She’ll probably never come back to Austin. Even if she did, what would we even talk about? She’d be so disappointed in me and how boring and predictable my life has become. Or maybe she’d be happy for me. It’s impossible to tell. But she did always make me feel like I could do more. That I was unique, too, and should never settle. That when things got too easy, it’s time to move on and carve a new path.
This week is the beginning of SXSW. It started last Friday with EDU and then Interactive. Music starts Wednesday. I walked up Congress to go to Happy Hour with an old coworker last week. We walked out of a popular bar and right next to it, there was a “secret” bar that you needed a code to get into. The bartender heard us talk about diversity initiatives at work and he moaned, assuming we were there for a panel or conference. “I hate South By,” he said.
On the way to my car, I passed a bunch of yellow balloons and signs in front of a grand opening.
“Soul Cycle…. Coming Soon!”
Yup I thought. Time to move on.
**Names have been changed to protect the hipster**
DailyDebs 