No Woes in San Antonio

San Antonio

Today.  After some discussion, we decided to drive around and visit one of the old Spanish Missions in the area; there were many around.  Crumbling rock structures and real Monks.  Far out.  Like Friar Tuck in Robin Hood.  After we did that, we would just see where my little VW Bug would take us.  The city was not lacking for things to do, that was for sure.  I just kept thinking about how great it would be to live there permanently.  It was so tempting.

After the rituals of getting presentable one more time, we were ready to head out.  Keep in mind that there was no GPS to help out with directions, just my fellow map reader and me.  And because of that, I became a Right Turn Expert.  And I still am.  I also had a distinct advantage of making very quick and stealth U-turns at the drop of a hat.  That is what that little handle was for on the passenger side, "Hang on Mary.  We're turning around."  I had many an eye roll and expletives hurled at me over my Volkswagon driving skills.  I pretended it was a Porsche, so I drove it like one.  Just slower.  But not much.

The whole time we were there, we never ate breakfast and maybe just an occasional bite to eat for lunch.  We could eat any old time, but our time in San Antonio was limited.  To be honest, we mostly drank; the food was secondary.  Food was used as a sobering up tool or a preventative tool to extend the amount of alcohol consumed.  As did most people back then, we both smoked, which seemed to help appetite suppressant.

Were you wondering where my kids were?  They were with my mom.  Miracle.  How did I pull that off?  I paid for her to watch them.  Why didn't she object to me going?  Because she trusted Mary.  For some strange reason, she seemed to think that I was hanging with The Virgin Mary, not Mary The Party Girl.  Funny.

So we get to this old decrepit Spanish Mission.  Old as dirt, kind of the same color as the dirt.  Creepy place.  And the Monks were walking around.  Where was Zorro?  And Sergeant  Garcia?  I loved Walt Disney's Zorro series as a child.  That was what the place reminded me of.  Swashbuckling, roof jumping, mask-wearing, Zorro.  I guess I was irreverent, but not on purpose.  "Do I want to go to another one?  Won't it look just like this one and have Monks there, too?  No, one is enough for me."  "You?"  "That's what I thought."  Back to San Antonio.

We parked the car back at the motel/hotel and headed out on foot to explore the city.   The only bad thing about San Antonio in the summer was the heat and the intense humidity.  But that was what gave it a tropical look and feel.  All of the lush green plants and trees everywhere were dependent on those two elements.  It wasn't like Dallas that had cracks so big in the ground from the heat that you could snap your ankle if you stepped in one.  At this time of year in Dallas, the trees had about 3 leaves on them, the only 3 that had not been burned off by the heat. This was the prettiest city that I had ever been in.

We walked down to the Plaza of the Americas.  This area was part of the World's Fair in 1968.  The Tower of the Americas was erected specifically for that event.  It looked similar to the Space Needle and other towers, but it seemed more elegant than the others.  At night it was gorgeous.  Mary wanted to go up to the observation deck.  Now, if you knew me, you would know that I don't like heights at all.  But I agreed to go to keep the peace.  Up, up, up, we went on the outside of the tower in the observation elevator.  I couldn't move.  I was glued to the wall in terror.  I was unable to move, really; fear gripped me and held me still.  Only my eyelids moved.

The doors opened, and I had to get off.  Holy crap.  I shuffled over to a wall and stood there like a big, scared dummy.  I almost felt like crying.  Mary was trying to get me to look at the city below us.  I was so scared that I couldn't even look at my feet.  "You go right ahead and look at whatever you want; I will be right here."  Little kids were looking at me like I was a big scaredy-cat, which I was.  "Hey lady, look over there."  GTFAFM!  You figure out what that means.  Finally, after what seemed like days, we were getting on the elevator to go back down.  I heard from everyone how cool it was up there.  I just shook my head, yeah. Finally, the door opened, and I was on earth again.

It was a pretty long walk from where we stayed to the Plaza, so we started back to our room.  We had to change into our "night gear," nice clothes, fresh makeup, good hair.  Tonight we were going to the Magic Time Machine, a theme type restaurant.  It had excellent reviews for atmosphere, food, dancing, and drinks.  Heck yeah, tonight we were officially going to boogie.

We drove around the city for a while, soaking in the ambiance, looking at the festive lights everywhere, people walking around and talking about the last few days.  We didn't want to get there too early.  We had to make an entrance, you know how it is.  Finally, it was dark and time to go in.

What a neat place, it had cars in it for tables, it also had scenes from movies, and the wait staff was dressed like film characters.  It was a scene from Pulp Fiction.  Mary and I sat on two bamboo swings suspended from the ceiling at the edge of the dance floor.  Well, now, talk about guys!  It looked like the entire U.S. Air Force was there.  I have never been anywhere where the male population was about 98% and mostly in uniform.  We were going to dance.  And dance.  And, well, dance.  But it was fun because it was too loud to talk and exchange pleasantries.  We never really got to sit for very long periods of time.  And then the drinks started showing up.  It was dance, dance, dance, go back to the table and chug the drinks because we were so hot, then dance some more.  In a couple of years, I would learn to perfect this ritual dance and drink thing.  Tonight I was a little sloppy.  Who cared?  Not us, we were having too much fun.  And then they played this weird song that I had never heard before that night.  What kind of a song was it?  "I see the little silhouette of a man Scaramouche, Scaramouche, can you do the fandango?"  What?  What?  Hang on, dude, I'm NOT dancing to that weird song.  Yes, it was Bohemian Rhapsody.  And I fell in love with it after that, and every time I hear it, it takes me back to San Antonio, Texas, and the Magic Time Machine.  Play it again, Sam.

We danced the night away that night.  We were tired, hot, hungry, and thirsty.  Mostly tired.  And for Mary and me, tiredness trumps everything else.  I drove very carefully and cautiously back to the room.  Once we left and the night air hit us, I could barely stay awake.  Fortunately, we were not very far away from the motel.  I think we both laid down in our party clothes and crashed.  That was the last thing I remember.  But I know that I must have had a smile on my face as I slept because this was another great day.  And tomorrow we would have another one.

What a town.  And we were two wild and crazy girls.  Life was good.