BEHOLD:
And now for the back story...
Last night was a Bike Ramble, Halloween Style. This bi-monthly event has become quite popular with an ever expanding following. The formula for the event was the same - to reek havoc in and around downtown as a group of inebriated bikers relocating from one bar to another. The only difference was that this time we were in costume.
Wait, never mind. We usually are adorned with ornamentation in some fashion or another for these gallivanting escapades. In fact in August, we all had matching flashing tiaras. So, I'll rephrase - the only difference this time was that Brian and Alison (my usual bicycle brigade cohorts) could not make it. Why? Well, they had a wedding to attend. Brian Connelly was finally getting married to his long time fiance - Cara. I worked with Brian (and also Brian - of Brian & Alison fame) at Whole Earth Provision Co. (Lots of Brians to keep track of in this story). Anyway, the absence of my friends in no way prevented me from borrowing one of Brian's bikes, nor did it impede on my spirits - though they were missed.
Anyhow, my group (consisting of a number of my coworkers) convened at Sam's Burger Joint. The usual rendezvous point is across the street under the highway, but no one else was there yet and we were all hungry.
Nicolette distributed glow bracelets all around - anything to make us less likely to be hit by a car is fine by me. While we ate, a mighty herd gathered under the bridge, decked out in costumes of plenty.
At about 8:30 we joined them and a few minutes later we disembarked!
One of the things I love most about these bike rambles is the new perspective of our somewhat sleepy city that can only be obtained while pedaling about rambunctiously.
There are just so many crevasses of San Antonio spice to unearth.
So many new well-enough-lit alleyways to discover.
So many sleazy dive bars to arrive at wind-jostled and dry-eyed.
The first of these was Alibi's at Sunset Station which is an often avoided touristy, commercial district just east of downtown. I ordered myself and Vicki - who had chosen an impeccable outfit for the occasion: a black jumpsuit with a glow-in-the-dark skeleton printed somewhat anatomically correct (minus a pelvis) on the front - Dos Equis "dressed", meaning (for all you non-Texans) that the bottle neck was sprinkled with crystallized salt and fresh-squeezed lime.
As I finished my drink, one of my fellow ramblers asked me where my bike was. I pointed to it leaning against the iron gate of the establishment. He glanced at it and then chided, "Good. I thought you were an under cover cop!"
Clearly this stranger had misunderstood. Out of everyone there, I think I looked least like a cop. Surely Vicki even appeared more suspicious...
We meandered further into the nether-regions to a really classy, dumpster-on-the-patio-type drinkery known by the locals as Shoot - It. Shoot what? I don't know. Or maybe it's like "Shoot! I don't want to go there." Whatever the case, I was more than happy to move on to Beethoven's Mannerchor.
There we shared a pitcher and then rode off down the street to the Blue Star Arts Complex. The other ramblers ordered pizza, while several of my more adventurous friends and I scoped out whatever fuss was escalating over at the Blue Star Contemporary Art Museum.
Apparently, the Dos Equis corporation had taken over the gallery and what is normally a bastion of local creative expression had been transformed into an industry fodder wonderland. Yes sir - Dos Equis - my chosen beer on most occasions, had taken over! It was actually weird. They had free beer of course, which almost made me forget my woes, but they also had costumed dancers on stilts, a sacrificial snake stage next to the DJ, and design-your-own Dos Equis air brush tattoos. My favorite part was making fun of all the jerks who were there taking the party seriously. I pitty the fool!
Hale and Jen dance it up! Yikes...
Sometime in all that mayhem, Alison called me to officially proclaim that the wedding reception was O-V-E-R. She and Brian would like us to meet them back downtown at Club Cohiba - a swanky cigar bar beneath the Hotel Havana.
It took only a little convincing to get Vicki, Marc, and Hale to ditch the rest of the bikers on the trek back to Sam's further north for one final pit stop.
After finding a few tables in the hotel's outdoor patio to hide our bikes behind, we bumped into newlyweds Brian and Cara in the hotel lobby. It was nice to see them and wish them well, even though they didn't invite me to their grand affair.
Marc and Hale have perhaps a little too much fun in the tapestry-clad elevator down to the basement bar.
I have Hale to thank for the enthusiasm that led to a much in retrospect regretted sharing of a cigar. Never again.
Anyway - we bumped into Alison and Brian and most of the wedding party very much all inebriated. It was easy to appreciate that dark, smoky bar - there is something both warmly inviting and overtly extravagant about its plush little furniture arrangements.
A big thrill was that our friend Blake had flown from DC just for the wedding and to grace us with his delightful presence. Pretty soon the bride and groom joined us.
A few minutes later I noted to Hale what an amusing juxtaposition it was facing the beautiful bride in lap of handsome groom to our right and Vicki to our left in her bony apparel. I asked Vicki if she would mind joining Cara on Brian's lap for a picture. She initially refused, but I knew better - a tired and alcohol-infused Vicki can be coerced. I begged. She responded, "Only if Cara agrees..."
Giddy, I turned to the bride suggestively, "Cara - its your wedding night - a night you've always dreamed of! And in those dreams, haven't you always envisioned sharing a lap of your new husband with a skeleton?"
She smiled thoughtfully and uttered a sloshy, "Yeeeeeeees!"
I don't know about her dreams, but mine surely came true that night!
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