Austin Wino's Association

Friday, June 15, 2007

Austin Winos Association There are many questions in the the world that cannot be answered: How can bars legally get away with selling booze to Lindsay Lohan? Why did they make a Fantastic Four sequel and more unsettling, why did I see it? And why am I a magnet for Hobos? Some of you may recall my run in with the character "Shortbread the Black Panther." That was on my front porch. That was understandable. I mean, I'm on my porch in Hyde Park after dark and some wannabe rapper, black panther drinking an Olde E. in a brown paper bag approaches me looking for his catfish. Seriously though, that is to be expected in a neighborhood where the homes sell for $400,000. You get what you pay for. Last Tuesday, however, was a completely different scenario. All I wanted to do was have a drink or 12 at Molotov and catch up with my good friend Jenny whom I hadn't seen in 8 years (thank you Myspace) when once again my hobo magnet caught the attention of a character called David. He didn't give us a catchy nickname like Shortbread, so we'll have to assume that David was his real name. Although I still don't believe that his hair was real. Let me describe. You know those novelty baseball hats with attached long hair that hangs out of the back? He may have invented those. So there we were drinking, discussing and reminising about our Sam Houston State days (actually, that could explain my current unemployed status) when David started to talk to us from the street. "You guys have a cigarette?" Oddly enough, I didn't. But, even if I had...he's on the street, we're in the bar. Why was he even addressing us? It all seemed very strange...Anyway, I told him that I in fact did NOT have a cigarette, but that there were plenty of people on the street that might. It was at this point that someone should have gotten David an Imodium A-D because he came down with explosive diarrhea of the mouth. "Do you guys know what AWA stands for?" For some reason, Jenny did. "Austin Winos Association?" "That's right," David said. "I may be the only original member left. One guy got hit by a car and the other.." (shit, neither Jenny or I remember what happened to the other one.) David then proceeds to tell us of his Dallas days. Not the Dallas we all know and hate mind you, but the seedy side of Dallas. A side of Dallas where crack could be exchanged for pills and vice versa. David ran this side of town like Tony Montana ran Miami. Impossible you say? Not according to David. " I slept on the rooftop above this building that held AA meetings. They tried to get me to come, but soon they gave up. I kept hanging outside the building and pretty soon they were giving me money to buy booze." Now I don't want to get all preachy and soapboxey, but I hate enablers. Seriously, what did these dry drunks think he was needing money for? To save up to patent the cure for cancer? Oh wait, I know...they thought the baseball hat with attached hair thing was really going to take off. Anyway, we continued to shoo David off like an annoying gnat, but I'll never forget the fourth or fifth time he came to the window and said to us, "You all remind me of my family. I love you..." Great, so now I'm unemployed AND the brother of the one and only homeless member left of the Austin Winos Association. Next time I go to Molotov I'm sitting on the roof...