Prophetic Endings to Texas

1. Leaving Winedale: After many heartfelt goodbyes, the Syam family has to return to the parking grounds to find my father’s missing cell phone. Afterwards, I take a piss behind our van, only to be caught in the security guard’s headlights. After scurrying back into the car, I realize that my last contribution to Winedale is urine.

2. Leaving the Buis' house: As I pull my keys out of my pocket the bottle opener keychain falls off after two years of trusty service. Joey later interpreted this as a sign I might give up drinking but hell, I ain’t no teetotaler. I’m not sure what it’s a sign for, but it’s a sign, no doubt.

3. This Week in Houston: If there were ever a deterrant for living in Texas, it’s Houston. Houston really is the anti-Austin, as much as I hadn’t believed it before. They are making the highway 6 lanes both ways throughout the city. SIX! That is, for you liberal arts majors out there, twelve lanes across—not even Marlon Brando’s beltline was so big. And since I’ve been here it’s either Cost-Co, or Best Buy, or REI, or some other chain store to visit and drive me batty. I need my city to have some personality, something Houston’s sorely lacking.

4. Leaving Friends: I prefer to think of it as prolonged absence. Then disappearance. Then wistful recollection supplemented with lighthearted mockery. Who are we kidding, though? I’ve been gone for a long time.